This Little World is Getting Smaller
by The Modern Typewriter
Summary: Follow Darcy as she adjusts to life being the only "normal" person in Avenger's tower, copes with the things she's seen and done, and tries to regain control of her life despite the world's best efforts to make her feel small. Some fluff, some mentions of depression and anxiety.
1. A is for Anxiety

**Alright so a bit of a precursor to this story. I am mostly doing it as a way to keep myself writing, and I find Darcy to be one of the more approachable characters to write about in the MCU. Not the only one, obviously, but it's easier to work on your character development skills with someone who is less developed in the films. **

**I am taking a lot of liberties in this story because my main goal is to write what I feel is missing in the stories written about Darcy, have fun doing it, and continue doing it. Timelines/details get shaken up (not aggressively) and I am picking and choosing which characters to use in a way that is not canon. **

**Looking at what I have written so far, no two chapters are alike in my opinion. So if this chapter isn't your cup of tea...I encourage you to explore other chapters. Maybe I'm just biased. Some chapters are better executed than others, some have themes that will appeal to your more than others. Just give it a shot :) and I hope you enjoy!**

**It probably goes without saying that I look forward to feedback...**

* * *

A is for Anxiety

Avenger's Tower was unnervingly quiet on nights when the team was away. Jane was down in her lab, face down on a half-eaten pop tart. Darcy hadn't bothered to move her.

Instead she had gone up to the common area to see what the others were up to. It was Jarvis who informed her that the place was, in fact, empty. In the kitchen was a half-cooked meal that one of the team must have abandoned when the call rose to assemble. She didn't know what it was, but she was sure it wasn't salvageable. Darcy tossed it in the trash. Moving to the window, she wondered where they'd gone off to this time, and the longer she stared outward she began to wonder just what it was like to see the world through their eyes.

The city was bright below them, but the sky was starless and vast – a void that felt like it would consume her body and soul.

Darcy, by default mostly, was the only normal person in the tower. Followed at a gradually increasing distance by Sam. She was not a hero. Not a genius by any means. It's like ever since Thor fell out of the sky, her entire existence was caught up in some fucked up microcosmic big bang. The universe kept expanding, creating its own uncharted plane. And Darcy? Darcy was spiraling the fuck out of orbit – she had no center of gravity, no sun or moon.

Space. A concept that had enchanted her boss turned best-sister-friend; a place that had produced her big badass adopted brother from Asgard. Every day she had too much of it and somehow not enough. It expanded and increased on a whim, Darcy's thoughts on the matter be damned. Space made her hands sweat when no one else was around.

"Miss Lewis," Jarvis said.

"J-man."

"I am detecting an irregularity in your vital signs," He hesitated. "It is an irregularity that I have detected at an increased rate over the course of the last three weeks. I…do not wish to speak out of turn, but I would strongly advise you to contact a medical professional."

"I'm fine J."

"Miss Lewis- "

"Jarvis, there's nothing wrong. I promise."

"I have gathered a list of qualified professionals who have a wide range of expertise," Jarvis persisted, defiant as only Tony Stark's brainchild could be. "I have taken the liberty of downloading it to your cell phone and portable computer."

"Unnecessary Jarvis," Darcy grumbled, but her face softened before she added a quiet "Thanks I guess…"

"You're quite welcome Miss Lewis." If an AI could sound smug…

The TV lit up, seemingly of its own volition. The lights dimmed and the fireplace came to life. Behind her in the kitchen, Tony's version of a Keurig began to gurgle and hiss as Jarvis made her a cup of cocoa. She sighed and did as the AI indicated she should. Trudging over to the kitchen, her shaking hands grasped the mug and felt better having something to hold onto. Cocoa at the ready, Darcy made her way to the couch and cuddled up in a blanket watching Jarvis scroll slowly through her viewing options. She hummed in agreement when he paused on Call the Midwife, asking him not to turn off the show even if she fell asleep. Darcy lost herself in the simplicity of the episodes, no matter how much drama they packed in, at the end of the day, there was optimism and structure.

Darcy felt heavy as she watched the show. Felt the tightness that had settled in her shoulder blades start to fade, and she felt the typical tingling in her fingers and toes as the adrenaline began to wear off. Her breathing was deep, and her bones felt squishy.

* * *

_Darcy wasn't aware she had fallen asleep at all._

_The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fireplace and the hum of the television, which was odd since the screen in front of her was black. She tried to ask Jarvis if he knew what was wrong with the TV, but she couldn't seem to find her voice. The now empty mug that she held in her hands, fell away and shattered on the floor as Darcy tried in vain to stand up and detangle herself from a pile of a thousand blankets she had never put on._

_Stepping on the glass to get away from the couch, she stumbled toward the windows. A trail of bloody footprints in her wake, a baby was crying on the show – it's mother still screaming as she delivered its twin. And Darcy was holding herself up, only the thin pane of glass supporting the full weight of her body._

_The city lights were gone. Everything was black. The whole world had gone dark and she tried to call Jarvis but she couldn't talk. And the baby just kept crying and the woman kept screaming and there was blood on the floor. And the whole world was black, the sky and the city were dark. She couldn't even make out the shapes of the buildings below. It was like everything had evaporated into space._

_And then, as though someone had turned on two tiny suns, she was met with the glowing red eyes of the destroyer. Darcy's hands were practically melded to the glass, she couldn't move as she stood face to opening mouth with the giant death bot from Asgard. And when the flames burst from the destroyer and rushed toward her, Darcy could do nothing but wait for her own death._

Somewhere behind the couch someone hissed and whispered something she couldn't make out. Whoever they spoke to rumbled quietly their response. Through her eyelids she could tell that someone turned on a light, and she could vaguely make out the opening and closing of cabinet doors.

When she finally opened her eyes, the first thing Darcy saw was a blacked out star. Disoriented from her dream and confused by the star in front of her, Darcy did what any sane person would do and reached out to run a finger over it. Except, she quickly came to realize that the star was attached to metal, and the metal was in an odd shape, and that shape was attached to a bigger, manlier shape that had frozen at the touch of her finger.

Ice blue eyes looked questioningly at Darcy from behind messy locks of hair. The Winter Soldier.

She flew up. Trying to jump off the couch, but tangled still in the blanket, Darcy flailed trying to stop herself from falling face first into the coffee table.

Instead of letting her get a face full of table, a long metal arm wrapped itself around her midsection and hauled Darcy up to her feet. Bucky righted her before ducking back down briefly to gather the rag and dustpan he had abandoned on the floor. Her hot cocoa must have fallen after all.

"I am so sorry! I wasn't even thinking dude. I swear I was just like super out of it because I had this fucked up dream and I didn't even know I was sleeping. And then I looked up and there was this floating star and I was like really confused and I touched it – and I know that was like super insensitive and wrong of me, and it totally shows that I shouldn't be trusted with any like super important red buttons or anything. Like, seriously, man never ever give me something that says 'do not push' because I will, and I'll probably be responsible for a lot of innocent deaths. Fuck man forget I said that t—"

Darcy jumped when a hand landed gently on her shoulder and couldn't stop herself from lashing out and smacking the offending person…Who of course turned out to be a sympathetic looking Steve Rogers.

"Oh shit, Steve. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to slap you," And then more to herself than him, she continued. "Fuck, who slaps Captain America? Where does that land of the scale of unpatriotic acts? Is it like not standing for the pledge or is it more like burning the flag? Or is it like a peaceful protest in front of the Lincoln Memor—"

"Darcy." Steve's smile was wide and toothy now. He had very nice teeth. She wondered if that was the serum too, or if he'd always been that way. He was blushing. Why was he blushing? Captain America really blushed a lot.

"Doll," Bucky interjected. "Your internal monoloque…not so internal…"

It was Darcy's turn to blush.

"Shit sorry."

"Okay Darcy… I'm gonna cut you off before we go back down the road again," Steve said. "You don't need to apologize for anything. Bucky is a grown man and he can handle it if someone touches his prosthetic – you didn't freak him out or hurt his feelings in any way. Right, Buck?"

Bucky quirked his lips and gave a half nod in confirmation.

"Second, you barely slapped me and it's not like I didn't have it comin'. I caught you off guard is all. Third…we were already _very_ aware of the fact that we should never put you in charge of the 'do not press' button," He smirked. "There's a whole page about it in your file."

Darcy squinted, unsure about whether or not he was trolling her on that last one, before releasing a deep sigh and shrugging a shoulder at him.

She looked down at the mess in Bucky's hands and reached out to take it from him.

"Thanks for cleaning that up…I guess I really did drop the mug this time. I can take it from here though. I should probably mop the floor too.."

Bucky pulled his arms back, not letting her take the shattered glass from his hands.

"Don't sweat it, darlin'," He smiled at her before heading toward the kitchen where the rest of the Avengers were scarfing down whatever sustenance they could find.

"Darce.." Steve was watching her with a furrowed brow. "If you ever need to talk about anything…"

But she smiled at him and commented on his rippling pectorals…effectively heading off that conversation before it started. She left him blushing by the couch, while she wandered into the kitchen. No one commented on her presence despite the late hour, Clint passed her a bowl of cereal and Bruce provided an already brewed cup of tea. Bucky didn't say anything more, but he took a seat next to her and despite his moniker, the Winter Soldier's presence was a surprisingly warm one to be in.

If they noticed the dark patches under her eyes, they didn't say anything – some of them had dark patches of their own. And if they noticed that she didn't ask about their missions anymore, they didn't say anything about that either. And the Avengers filtered out of the room one by one, each wishing each other a good night and pleasant dreams. Some gave claps on the back or a squeeze on the shoulder to one person or another as the passed by. But Darcy stayed seated at the bar, zoned out and exhausted but not wanting to go back to sleep.

Thor pressed a kiss to her hair before retiring, and Tony left her with a lazy salute and a promise to see her in the morning. Bruce and Natasha both kind of just disappeared and Clint nodded goodnight. Darcy though didn't acknowledge much of any of them – focusing instead on the sensation of the countertop as she rubbed her fingers continuously over the grainy surface. She couldn't bring herself to stop, didn't know what she would do if she _did_ stop.

It was Sam's voice that broke through the haze. Darcy absently registered that three people remained. Bucky to her left; Sam and Steve leaning on the counter across from her.

"Hey Lewis…" Sam started gently. "You want to do something for me real quick."

She didn't look up from where she was running her fingers along the countertop. Knew she should say something back, but couldn't find her words. She half cocked an eyebrow and bit the inside of her cheek.

"Can you take a deep breath with me," He asked and demonstrated. She followed his example. Inhale, three, four, five. Hold, two, three, four, five. Exhale, three, four, five.

He asked her to do it again.

She did.

She hunched slightly as her back and shoulders released their tension. But, still, she was intent on the grain of the granite beneath her hand. She ground her teeth and worried the inside of her cheek.

"Good, Lewis," Sam continued. "Now, can you tell me five things that you hear? Anything at all."

Darcy counted her breathing again and dug her fingers into the surface a little harder.

Her voice was tight.

"The air conditioning," she hesitated.

"Good," Sam smiled. "That's one."

"A clock," she said.

She was straining her ears now. It was the middle of the night and everyone was sleeping. The whole place was quiet. She didn't even know what else she could hear, but then she heard clicking, and rustling, and a crackling sound behind her too.

"Typing," She said and looked up from where her fingers were still moving. Across from her Sam was smiling, tired-eyed but genuine. And next to him was Steve Rogers, typing away on his laptop. Most likely finishing up his paperwork from the night's mission.

"Rustling.." She looked to her left. Bucky was scrolling through his phone, eating from a bag of chips. "Rustling from Bucky's chips. The fireplace behind me…the fire is still going."

"Good, Darcy," He said and even though she was still absently tracing patterns on the counter Sam's eyes never once flickered to the action. "Now how about five things that you can smell?"

Darcy closed her eyes and took a sniff before wrinkling her nose.

"One of you hasn't showered yet." That startled a laugh out of them, but they kept their poker faces on. No telling who it was then..

"I smell the fire in the fireplace and the chips that Bucky is eating. I smell…coffee? Who is drinking coffee at four a.m.? And that plug-in candle thing that Pepper got.."

Her hands had stopped wearing a hole in Tony's granite, having progressed to wringing themselves nervously in her lap.

"And five things that you can see? Anything at all." Sam reminded her.

She looked around herself and saw everything. Uncertainly, she looked back at Sam who decided to help her out a little.

"How about five things that are blue?"

She chewed on her lip and nodded, looking around her.

"Cap's shield has blue," she said quietly, for some reason more insecure about answering this prompt than she was about the others. Steve stopped typing to look softly at her.

"The mug on the other counter; your shirt," she nodded at Sam before pausing.

"Two more, Lewis."

She brought her hand up and rubbed at the countertop again. Sam watched the movement this time but didn't comment. She felt a weight rest on the back of her chair, and she looked over to Bucky who was still scrolling casually through his phone. Nonchalant despite the placement of his arm – looking for all the world a man who was simply stretching out.

"Bucky's phone case is blue," Darcy said. Her hands came down to rest in her lap. "And there's a blue stamp on that envelope over there."

She exhaled slowly, before leaning back all the way in her seat. The back of her neck propped on the arm resting behind her.

She felt strangely wired, and the whole room seemed to be in sharper focus than before. The lights were brighter and even the friendly silence between them had a distinct buzz to it.

"What was that show you were watching before?" Sam straightened up while he waited for her to answer.

"Call the Midwife," She said – Her voice loud to her ears.

"Yeah?" He smiled with an arched brow. "It any good?"

She thought back to her dream. The crying baby and the screaming woman.

"I'm kinda burned out on it…" A part of her wanted to look to the windows on her right, to make sure the destroyer wasn't waiting for her there. She kept her eyes averted.

"Huh that's too bad…" He looked to Steve who was closing his computer and sliding it away. Bucky put his phone back in his pocket before standing and grasping the back of Darcy's chair.

"Heard this show called The Office was pretty decent…" Steve said, voice gravelly with the sleep he apparently wasn't going to get. "Want to watch an episode or two?" He asked her.

She looked suspiciously between the three of them. All dead on their feet, asking her to watch TV with them at four in the morning. She opened her mouth to protest. She wanted to suggest that they go to bed and get the rest that they needed, but Bucky pulled out her chair for her and guided her toward the couch. Trusting the other two to follow in their wake. He plopped himself down in the spot she had occupied when she was alone, dragged her to sit in the spot to his right so he could keep an arm wrapped snugly around her shoulders. Steve kicked up his feet to the right of Darcy and Sam all but collapsed into the love seat next to the couch.

Jarvis played the first episode without being asked to and they were all asleep before the theme song was done.


	2. Brooklyn's Bridges

**I feel like this one is a bit of a slower one but I enjoyed developing the the character relationships here, and setting up their dynamics for later. Hopefully :) Let me know what you think.**

Brooklyn's Bridges

Steve didn't bother to do a double take at the feet that stuck out of the wall vent by the fridge. He just opened the door and poured himself a glass of juice. Leaning back against the counter, he took a moment to do nothing but blissfully stare off into space. The moments were few and far between that Captain America could just be, just sit in silence after a morning of being bombarded by everyone and everything.

The girl in the vent sneezed and shuffled some papers before settling again. He watched her sock clad feet fidget restlessly before they took turns scratching at her shins. She heaved out an echoing grunt before rising slightly and flipping, her toes now pointing down to rest on the floor.

He caught a movement in the corner of his eye and turned to nod at Bucky who had a towel draped over his shoulder, tape still on the knuckles of his flesh hand. Steve took down a glass and handed it to his friend who filled it to the brim with water out of the tap.

He flicked his eyes from Steve to the vent questioning, but the blonde just huffed out an amused breath and shrugged. They busted out lunch meats and sandwich fixings from the fridge and settled themselves in for a bite, taking their time while they wordlessly waited for Darcy to emerge.

It was another fifteen minutes before they saw another life sign. A yawn and a stretch, then Darcy slithered out of the vent landing on her hands and knees. She faced away from the super soldiers, oblivious to their presence.

"Whatcha doin, doll?"

"FUCK!" Darcy scrambled away, hurling her book behind her to distract her would-be attacker while she made her escape.

Steve doubled over in laughter, clutching at his chest. Bucky snatched the book out of the air, chuckling along with his friend.

"What the fuck, Barnes? Christ! How long have you two been there? You couldn't make a noise or something?"

She hauled herself off her ass, swatted at the hair that had fallen in her face, and made her way over to where they sat. Bucky was turning her book over in his hands curiously, ignoring her reach.

"Can I have my book back please?"

"You throw your weapon you lose it, Lewis."

"That's not true," she argued. "I've seen you throw your knife at Clint and he gave it back to you."

"That's because Barton knows who the superior fighter is."

"How modest." Her voice was wry as the two men traded shit eating grins.

"I want my book, Barnes."

"Why are you reading 'The Idiot's Guide to New York City' anyway, Darce?" Steve interjected, leaning forward onto the counter.

Darcy stuttered and blushed.

"It's an interesting book!"

"It's a tourism guide, Darcy," Steve said. "You've lived here for almost a year."

"Got family in town or something?" Bucky asked. "Not sure where to take 'em?"

"No."

"Boyfriend?"

"No. I just—"

They waited.

"I just—" She huffed before muttering quickly. "I've never really been out of the tower."

Four eyebrows shot into two hairlines.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, you heard me Steven!" She snapped at the incredulous duo.

"You've never been outta the—"

"How in the Sam hell is that even possible?"

They're accents got thicker when they were exasperated.

"Dollface, how can ya even call yourself a damn New Yorker?"

"Hey Dickface, I'm not a damn New Yorker. I am a god damn New Mexican who was forced to come here for work."

"New Mexican? Darcy…"

"It's a thing Steven." She snapped, snatching her book from Bucky in the process. "And it's not my fault that it's impossible to escape this place. It's like a fortress of needy super babies and stunted geniuses. Every time I _got_ a chance to leave, it was to go to a meeting in another building or it was to get on a plane and go somewhere else. But _then_ Tony started allowing Jane to fly straight out of the Tower so bye-bye airport. I can't even go to the _airport_."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Darcy cut him off.

"When SHIELD told me to come here, I didn't put up a fight because I didn't want them to like make me disappear or some shit. If Jane hadn't put it in her contract, I wouldn't even _live_ here. I'd be in some shitty walk-up with no A/C and a rat for a neighbor. I wouldn't even be getting paid! And Jane never leaves because she's making love to Science!"

She waved the book in his face.

"If I didn't feed her, the bitch would starve. But then Stark needed an assistant and he liked me, and Pepper liked that he listened to me so then I worked for Jane and Tony. Fine. That's fine. It's a great opportunity. But Tony never sleeps, and Jane never eats and they both always manage to keep different shitty hours. When Jane gets a break, Tony works. Tony takes a break; Jane has a breakthrough. And then there's Bruce! At least the bastard has some fucking structure, but Christ if that man needs a Snickers when he's feeling all pissy and green. And when all three of them are somehow miraculously taken care of, some asshat in spandex decides to try and take over the city."

She was panting now – a crazy look in her eyes that Bucky had only seen once when he was a kid and his Ma was at the end of her rope.

"And then it's me and some sweaty lab monkey from level three locked in a panic room. And he's _gassy_ Steve! And sometimes I think he wants to ask me to repopulate with him if shit goes sideways on the outside and I don't want to repopulate with him Steve! I don't want to repopulate!"

He slowly pushed her book down out of his face, forcing her to set it on the counter, and gave her a calculating look.

"Let's go then," He said.

"Go? Go where?"

"Let's go explore the city. Show you around. Who better than a couple of Brooklyn boys to give you a tour?"

His smile was boyish, and she could suddenly see him as he was decades ago – a foot or so shorter, clothed in an old trench coat and a confidence that only served to get him into trouble.

"I can't just go…"

"Why not?" Bucky interjected; his hand tossed up in the air.

"Well because. Tony's been up for like twenty hours at this point and Jane hasn't—"

"Jarvis." Steve said suddenly.

"Yes, Captain?"

"In forty minutes, cut off Tony's power supply and lock his fridge. Inform him that he needs at least eight hours of sleep or I'm grounding him."

"Yes, Captain." If an AI could sound gleeful, Darcy thought.

"You were saying?" He looked to Darcy.

"I don't. I can't just leave…"

"Yeah Darcy, you can." Bucky said.

"I mean…but where would we go? Like what would we even do?"

"What are we gonna do? Stevie, is this dame serious right now?" Bucky stood and walked around the bar coming to a stop in front of her. He reached out and gently held her shoulders, leaning her back a bit so she could look him in the eyes.

"Darcy. Doll. As much as I love the hulk pajamas, go change. Put on your best dress. Meet us back here when you're ready. Let us old boys take their best girl out on the town, will ya?"

The look he gave her was as thick and sweet as molasses, and even though she only thought of him as a friend, Darcy's heart stuttered a little at the sight of it. By his Cheshire grin, that troll knew it too.

She blushed and avoided his gaze, looking instead to Steve who appeared far too amused for his own good.

"Fine." She grumbled before trudging away, trying to suppress the nervous excitement she felt at finally being able to experience the city she lived in. She paused at the door, turning back to the guys.

"When you said best dress…you meant jeans right?"

Bucky scoffed, but Steve smacked him upside the head.

"Just wear what you're comfortable in, Darcy."

She smiled back and before hopping up and down on the balls of her feet and disappearing through the door.

"Back in ten!" They heard her shout as she ran down the hall to the elevator.

"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes…if I may," Jarvis spoke up.

"Go ahead Jarvis."

"By my calculations, when Miss Lewis says she will be ready in ten minutes she takes between forty and fifty-two minutes before she is, in fact, ready. Might I suggest that Sergeant Barnes take the time to clean up while he waits?"

Steve snorted into his glass of water.

"Thank you, Jarvis. I think that is a fantastic idea."

Bucky flipped him the bird on his way to his quarters.

"Captain," Jarvis continued. "I have also taken the liberty of compiling a list of the places Darcy has expressed interest in seeing since she has come to live here in the tower. I would be happy to download her top five places to your phone if you would like..."

"I'd appreciate that Jarvis," He nodded. "Why don't you make it her top ten?"

"Very good sir."

* * *

"Darcy. No"

"Stevie. Yes."

"Darcy you cannot wear that in public. I can't be seen with you wearing that on your shirt." Steve insisted.

Darcy put her hands on her hips and glared up at him with the most obstinate expression she could muster.

Bucky was sniggering under his breath from where he stood by the elevator doors.

"Darcy I would never say that. And it's bad P.R. for the team. I can't be present while you wear that shirt."

"Wear anything you want Darcy. Be comfortable Darcy. This day is about you Darcy." She parroted his earlier words. "Does your word mean nothing, Steve Rogers? Are you a man without honor? Are you?"

She waved her finger in his face.

"I told you to be comfortable. I did not – cannot – condone this." His voice was dry and somewhere underneath his all-american tone of justice Darcy detected a hint of amusement.

"I think it's patriotic!"

"It's vulgar."

"Inspirational, I say!"

"Wearing a picture of me in my uniform saying 'We want YOU to go fuck yourself' is not inspirational Darcy. It's going to start a media firestorm."

"Come on Steve-o. No one is even gonna notice that you're you without your spangly suit anyway. And besides…you said be comfortable. This is what I was comfortable wearing," She said simply. "Now come on, I want to go to ground zero."

"No. Absolutely not. We are not going to ground zero while you wear that shirt. I will take you anywhere in that shirt as long as it is not a memorial site. Is that clear?"

She backed off and smiled, content that she got her way. She had a different shirt for ground zero, anyway.

* * *

They hit up a coffee shop first. Darcy ordered a twenty-ounce chai latte with extra chai and a shot of espresso. Steve and Bucky spent an inordinate amount of time looking up at the menu, their expressions stuck somewhere between bewilderment and disgust before ordering two twelve-ounce black coffees, extra hot. Darcy rolled her eyes at that and offered them a sip of her drink. Bucky choked and went to spit out his sip, but Darcy screeched and slapped her hand over his mouth.

"Don't you dare Barnes. That is caffeinated gold right there and you better not waste a god damned drop."

Steve, on the other hand, tried to drink the rest of her latte while she was scolding Bucky. He did not succeed.

They went to Central Park – took her to Bow Bridge where she threw herself dramatically against the side and reenacted some famous scene from a movie neither of them had ever heard of or seen. They got a kick out of it anyway and agreed with her when Darcy declared movie nights until they died.

They strolled through the Shakespeare Garden and went by Belvedere Castle. Darcy insisted on taking a selfie next to the Alice in Wonderland statue. They walked for hours, but it didn't feel like it to her.

They stopped into the Met an hour before closing and cooled off in the A/C. And when they left, the sky had just begun to dim. They grabbed some street tacos to eat while they wandered the about city. Steve mentally ticked off the items on Darcy's list, and decided to ask her later if they could make outings like this a regular thing.

"You ain't been to Brooklyn yet," Bucky said with a fond expression on his face.

"Uh. No dude. Until today I hadn't been anywhere except university lecture halls and the airport."

"Well, uh. It's not like it was. But it's home ya know? Even if it's uh…what's the word Stevie? What was Sam callin it now?"

"Basic," Steve responded, his voice grim.

Darcy snorted and choked on a piece of cilantro. Bucky absently patted her back, still trying to figure out the new meaning of the word.

They passed a sign that indicated the Brooklyn Bridge was in the opposite direction.

"Umm, guys?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going?"

"Heading out to the old neighborhood…"

"Right…but the Brooklyn Bridge is that way.." She jerked her thumb behind them. "At least that's what the sign says."

Steve nodded in confirmation, while Bucky huffed.

"The Brooklyn Bridge? At quarter to six on a Monday? Forget it Lewis, I wouldn't condemn my worst enemy to that fate."

Darcy looked between them, obviously missing a step. Steve took pity on her.

"We'll catch the B train over the Manhattan Bridge. After we cross, we'll get off at the first stop and you can see the skyline and the Brooklyn Bridge before we show you around," he said.

"So… there's more than one Brooklyn bridge?"

"No," Bucky said. "Only one Brooklyn Bridge. We're taking the Manhattan."

"Yeah, but since when is there more than one bridge to Brooklyn?" She rolled her eyes at him.

"Since before I was born, Darce."

"Oh" She said before sighing dramatically. "It's as though my whole life has been a lie."

Steve grabbed the back of her pants when she tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, laughing as he helped her stay upright.

When they got back to the tower, it was just past two in the morning. Darcy was dead on her feet and had a small sunburn on her face. But it was the first personal day she'd taken since she'd moved, and she was beyond relieved that she didn't have to spend it getting lost in a still unfamiliar city.

She tried to say goodnight in the elevator, but they wouldn't hear it. Insisted on walking her to her door and waiting until she was inside.

Before she closed the door, Darcy surged back out and grabbed the two hulking superheroes into a group hug. Doing her damnedest to squeeze the life of out them.

"Thank you," she said with her face pressed into Steve's shoulder. "You guys really are the most amazing friends anyone could ask for."

When she pulled away, Steve was blushing, and Bucky was doing his best not to meet her eyes.

And it all made a little more sense to Darcy then.

In between all the brainwashing and super-soldiering and trying to get over the piling of trauma in their lives, Steve and Bucky were just like her. Desperately trying to figure out how to be normal again too.


	3. Devil Baby Driver

**Yes my titles are in alphabetical order. Yes I skipped C. Yes you will survive.**

Devil Baby Driver

If ever they made a movie about Darcy Lewis's life it would start here – a freeze frame of complete and utter chaos – before even bothering to address the shit with the aliens and the scientists and the series of world ending events that she always found herself in the middle of. The movie would start right there in the car. With her eyes wide and unblinking; her foot pressed so hard on the gas pedal that she was almost standing in the driver's seat with bullets flying past her head.

Clint Barton, hanging out the passenger side window, was taking shots at the car behind them and yelling at her not to fucking stop for anything. And Sam Wilson, cussing up a storm in the back seat, was bleeding from the abdomen when he kicked out one of the back windows and busted the head of one of their assailants on the car door. The motorcycle flew into the air and landed a few yards away. If Darcy could talk, she'd be screaming. But she was silent and hyperventilating instead. Her heart was beating a bruise into her rib cage, and she was pretty sure they were all going to die.

_Earlier that day..._

Darcy was perched on a stool in Jane's lab, working her way through a pile of notes that the physicist had left for her to decipher. The hieroglyphics her boss produced were a one-way ticket to a migraine if Darcy wasn't careful, and she was relieved to look up after what felt like hours and realize that she was almost done. Breaking briefly to refill her cup of coffee and throw a bag of popcorn into the microwave for Jane, Darcy took a moment to stretch out the kinks in her back and shoulders.

"Good. Good. You're warming up, I'll see you in the gym in a few minutes Darce. I just gotta go grab a few things from my quarters." Clint Barton said from his place in the doorway.

Darcy looked around the room, confused, before looking back at Clint. So out of the ordinary were the man's words that even Jane looked up from her science to make a noise of bewilderment.

"Say what?" Darcy finally spoke up when Jane scrunched her nose and shrugged at her.

"The gym. Darcy. You're scheduled for your classes today."

"Classes? I didn't sign up for any classes Clinton." She scoffed. "And since when do you teach?"

He groaned and pressed his head against the metal door frame, then looked between her and Jane.

"Don't tell me they didn't tell you."

They just looked stupidly at him.

"Mandatory self-defense training for all non-combatant personnel. Someone was supposed to tell you weeks ago."

"I don't self-defend Clinton! I run! So, we're fine. I don't have to go."

"That's not how it works Darcy, and I've seen you run. Needs some improvement," he said. He wasn't joking; she could see it in his eyes.

"We can start with running if you want – work on your form and endurance. You don't technically have to fight to survive. Though I'm gonna teach you a couple basic techniques anyway. You're not going to talk me out of it."

"No. Just no." She shook her head and tried to ignore the growing tightness in her chest. "I graduated high school. No more P.E. That's like the universal agreement Clint!"

"Sorry kid, but no dice."

She wielded her mug of coffee like a sword. It was the only thing standing between her and the danger that the assassin posed.

"Well no one told me about this thing for today, so unfortunately I can't make it. I've got a lot of work to catch up on and I don't have time to go all the way down to the gym today." Clint arched an eyebrow at her neatly stacked pile of papers, most of which were already in her completed folder. Which was clearly marked for the world to see – didn't need to be Hawkeye for that one to be obvious.

"Darcy. It's mandatory. If you don't go, then your access will be rescinded until the training is completed. My hands are tied. No training, no working and if you don't work Jane will have to hire someone else—"

"SHE'LL GO!" Jane shot out of her desk with glassy eyes and unkempt hair. "Darcy, go. I can't hire someone else. Do you know how long it took me to find you and you don't even like science, but you put up with my crazy Darcy. And I _am_ crazy. I know it, he knows it, you know it. Who'll make the coffee if you're gone?" She pushed her gently toward Clint, but her eyes were steel.

"Great." Clint rubbed his hands together before leading a panicking Darcy out of the room. "I'll see you tomorrow at five o'clock sharp Dr. Foster, for the start of your sessions."

He didn't wait for a response, whistling as he walked away from the sound of the sputtering scientist in the lab behind them.

The gym was everything Darcy imagined, and worse.

Captain America and the Winter Soldier were in the middle of a boxing ring, circling each other with the coldest looks on their faces that Darcy had ever seen. Thor was on the edge of the ring, giving the constructive criticism that only a thousand-year-old warrior could give.

And it only escalated. Everywhere she looked the place was teeming with jack booted thugs. There was no way she was gonna stay there in the middle of all that testosterone. She had to get the motherfuck out of there.

He left her by an unused treadmill. Told her to warm up while he stepped in the back room to store the bag he carried on his shoulder. She rolled her eyes and nodded at him, watched him disappear, then she about-faced and marched her ass to the door.

"The Lady Darcy! My lightening sister with a warrior's heart!" Came Thor's bellow from across the room, she froze and looked back toward the boxing ring. Thor was headed her way with a purposeful step. She bit back a groan.

"Hey big guy."

"I hope you have not taken offense at my own reticence to be involved in your training, Darcy," He placed a large hand on her shoulder and ducked his head to the side. "I was of the opinion that my own area of expertise would be of little use to your schooling."

She had to laugh at that, patting his hand.

"Yeah dude, I'm not quite capable of shooting lightning out of my ass quite yet. Gimme a few years," She said, and Thor smirked down at her. "Mew Mew and I have an agreement."

"Yes, I know. Mjolnir holds you in the highest regard."

Not even bothering to react to that, she continued.

"It's good to see ya big guy, but now's not the best time. I gotta go. Clint will be back soon."

He scrunched his face in confusion. And looked around. Sam was shaking his head with a smile, cooling down on the treadmill. Steve and Bucky were laughing about something while they leaned on the ropes of the ring.

"Were you not here to learn his ways in the art of battle?"

"Yeah dude. Totally. But lesson one is evasive tactics. And I don't have a lot of time to get out of here before he shows up again."

Understanding dawned in Thor's eyes and he nodded curtly.

"I apologize. I see now I have hindered your efforts. Go," he nudged her toward the door. "I shall distract our friend, to make up for the time I have cost you."

"Thanks dude. You're the best," She said before backing toward the door.

She ignored the knowing look Steve was giving her from the far end of the room, before turning and getting the fuck out of there.

* * *

The thing about being friends with superheroes is that you pick up a good amount of skills on the fly, without even realizing that you're doing it. Darcy could totally handle a mediocre mugger on her own, due to desensitization and experience. Once you've battled dark elves on the streets of London, a dude in an alleyway trying to take your wallet is small change. The _problem_ in being friends with superheroes, especially those of the spysassin variety, is that they outclass you in everything you thought you had picked up in the time that you've known them.

Darcy knew she had to get out of the building. Avenger's Tower wasn't safe to stay in so long as Barton was looking for her. And the last five minutes had taken years off her life in terms of stress. If Thor had failed in distracting him, or had finished in his efforts by now, Clint could be anywhere and to say he'd be determined would be the biggest understatement of her life.

She ducked into a nondescript stairwell, knew he'd expect her to head down to the front entrance. So, naturally, she panicked and went upstairs instead.

"Jarvis," she whispered.

His voice echoed softly through the stairwell as he tried to answer her discreetly.

"Enact privacy protocols please," she begged.

He did as she said.

"J," She started. "Do you have a read on Agent Barton?"

"I am afraid he has enacted his privacy protocols, Miss Lewis."

"Oh, fuck me in the eye!"

"Can you tell me how to get out of here, J?" She asked and then clarified. "Without getting caught."

"Certainly, Miss Lewis"

Suddenly the stairwell dimmed, and a series of lights lit up on the floor. The emergency lights.

"Marry me, Jarvis."

"It would be an honor Miss Lewis. Now if I may suggest that you hurry."

That was all she needed to hear. She bolted up the steps, taking them two at a time and tried to ignore the cramp in her thigh. She followed the lights out an unmarked door, through a series of empty hallways, past an unsuspecting Bruce Banner and up another flight of stairs. The lights led straight to an elevator which pinged open just in time for her to throw herself bodily in; Jarvis shut the doors quickly behind her. The elevator whirred as it began its ascent.

* * *

Despite what everyone thought, Tony Stark did a lot more than just tinker around in his lab and cause problems. The man ran a multibillion-dollar company before he handed it over to Pepper, had his hands in several charities and initiatives, and now was the financial and technological spine of the Avenger's Initiative.

So, he spent most Thursday mornings in the office in his penthouse with a stack of paperwork and a protein shake. Reveling in the peace and quiet no one expected Iron Man to either want or need.

Jarvis spoke up quietly then.

"Sir."

"Go ahead J."

"Miss Lewis is on her way to the penthouse. Does she have permission to enter?"

Tony had to raise his eyebrows at that, mind working a mile a minute. He wracked his brain for any reason Team Science's devil baby would be on her way to speak to him in private.

"Do we know what she wants to talk about?"

Jarvis hesitated.

"I am afraid I can't say, sir. She has enacted her privacy protocols."

If he was concerned Tony never showed it, but he nodded and stood from his desk.

"Let her in."

He made his way to his private elevator and waited.

* * *

She was sitting on the floor of the elevator, out of breath and trying desperately to massage the cramp in her leg, when the doors dinged open. Standing before her with a curious glint in his eye was the one and only Tony Stark.

"Christ on a cracker, kid you look wrecked."

He didn't bother helping her up but waved her in, nonetheless.

"I hear you want to speak with me about something, Lewis?"

"Uh…no?"

"Sir," Jarvis spoke up. "I am afraid I have misled you."

Tony's head shot up to the ceiling with a look of total bewilderment.

"_Misled_ me? Did I miss your last growth spurt?"

"I'm afraid we would need to run more conclusive diagnostics before I can answer that with any certainty sir."

"Alright then, you got me. What's got you turning my own AI against me, Lewis?"

"Clint's trying to make me exercise and I ran away when he wasn't looking. He's out there somewhere and he activated his privacy protocols and I panicked. So, Jarvis led me here and now I'm here. Please don't rat me out."

He raised an eyebrow.

"The Hawk is hunting you?" He barked out a laugh. "Shit Lewis."

She hummed in agreement keeping an eye on the vents.

"Lucky for you," He gave her a sly look. "You've got friends in high places."

He walked back toward the elevator and waved his hand dramatically for her to get back in. She did so with a distrustful eye.

"Jarvis enact security protocol 'No Idiot's Allowed' and take us to my private garage."

"Right away, sir"

The elevator doors whirred open when they reached their destination and Darcy was led out into the middle of complete and total excess.

"See anything you like Lewis?"

"I don't know shit about cars Stark," She said, but she couldn't hide her awe at the sight of it all.

He scoffed.

"You know how to drive don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then you know _some_ shit about cars. You drive stick?"

"Yep"

"Good. Gives you more options."

"Take your pick Lewis."

She made her way over to a midnight silver number and turned to look at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

"The Tesla, eh?"

She shrugged.

"Not bad, kid. Hop in." He gestured to the passenger door before getting in the front seat. He was off like a bullet the moment her seat belt clicked.

* * *

Clint Barton may have played the fool for comedic purposes when he wasn't working, but the man was sharp as a double-edged blade. A fact that his teammates were well aware of. So, to say he was a little aggravated at Thor's attempts to distract him was an understatement.

"What do you mean she left?!" He growled at Thor who was looking far to amused for his own good.

"What'd you expect man?" Sam cut in. "Darcy doesn't take orders from anyone. Everyone knows that. How'd you think you were just gonna march her in here, tell her to get on a treadmill, and walk away like she's _actually_ going to do it?"

"He has a point my friend," Thor nodded in agreement.

"You knew she was lying to you," Clint sighed. "And you just…let her walk away."

"It was a very convincing lie," the prince's voice was warm. "It brought me a great deal of amusement and pride. I enjoy seeing such creativity and dedication in my young friends."

Clint ignored him, muttering to himself instead.

"She knows I'm just gonna drag her back here. She's _not_ that hard to find." He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Jarvis."

"Agent Barton." If an AI could throw shade, his tone would have said it all.

"Could you give me Darcy's whereabouts?"

"Darcy, sir?"

"Yes, Darcy Lewis."

"Oh, you mean Miss Lewis… of course."

Bucky was laughing under his breath. Clint pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Where is she Jarvis?"

"She is in Avenger's Tower, sir."

"Aveng—" He heaved out an exasperated groan. "Yes, Jarvis, I know she is in Avenger's tower. Where in the Tower is she, right now?"

There was a pause, and for a second the gathered Avenger's thought Jarvis would refuse to tell him. An act that would have been unheard of from the AI that was always so eager to be of service. Up until this moment, Jarvis had always seemed to enjoy helping Clint. Guess they knew where he stood when it came to Darcy.

"Miss Lewis is in the hallway near the east stairwell."

"Thank you, Jarvis."

The AI didn't answer.

Clint set off in search of Darcy, pausing only when Sam called for him to wait up.

"Thought I'd join you. See if she's interested in learning some first aid while she's at it."

Clint nodded at the idea but wished Sam luck with a wry twist of his lips.

The two men entered the east stairwell at the sound of murmured voices behind the door. And looked at each other in bewilderment when the overhead lights cut out and the security lights came to life on the ground.

Then footsteps sounded a couple flights above them, and Clint could just make out the sound of labored breathing.

They'd found her.

They flew up the steps, quickly gaining on Darcy. When they heard a door slam open and shut.

"Gotta be the fire door to Bruce's level." Sam called out before the two of them tore through the doorway that Darcy went through.

"Hey!" Bruce yelled as the two men breezed passed him. "What's going on?!"

"Darcy go this way?" Clint called back to Banner.

"Yeah," Bruce told him, bewildered. "Took a right and hit the elevator! Why though?"

"Tell you later man," Sam laughed back at the scientist.

When they hit the elevator, the doors remained closed.

"Hey J," Sam called out. "Would you mind helping us catch a ride here?"

"Certainly, Senior Airman Wilson," Jarvis said. "As soon as Sir has lifted his 'No Idiots Allowed' security protocol."

Despite his annoyance from earlier, Clint couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up at that. Sam's shoulders were shaking silently as they just looked at each other before completely losing their shit.

"Guys," Bruce said from behind them. "What the heck is going on? Have you lost your minds? Is there an emergency?"  
The two men couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer him.

They made their way back to the stairs. Waving a quick bye to an exasperated Bruce before heading back down to their respective levels. Only stopping once to glance out a window, to see a sparkling grey Tesla Roadster take off like a bullet from Tony's private garage.

"Senior Airman Wilson, Agent Barton," Javis spoke then. "Security protocols have been lifted. I am happy to report that Miss Lewis has left the building. You may now make your way to an elevator of your choice."

Clint rubbed his hand down his face.

"Thanks Jarvis."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the two runaways were parked outside a Dairy Queen eating ice cream and shooting the shit. Tony gave a final crunch to his cone and crumpled up his napkin and tossed it in the cup holder. He looked her over before opening the driver side door. Fished the key fob out of his pocket and tossed it over to her.

"Don't wreck my car."

"What are you doing?"

He tapped at the nanotech on his chest and the Iron Man suit assembled itself around his body.

"Got work to do."

Then he just took off. Leaving Darcy with a half-eaten ice cream cone, a half million-dollar car, and the day to herself.

"Fuck yes!"

She climbed over the center console and adjusted the seat.

"J-man, you there?"

"Of course, Miss Lewis."

"Call Stark please."

He answered on the first ring.

"Don't tell me you wrecked her already, kid."

"Adopt me, Tony."

He barked out a laugh.

"I could be a totally beneficial child to you. You already call me Devil Baby! You already have the nickname. Think about it Stark; you and me! We could take over the world."

"I like the way you think, Lewis. But Pep would have a conniption."

"Hey! Mommy Warbucks loves the heck out of me Tony Stark!"

"Let me see what I can do," he said and cut the call.

She shook her head, before pulling out of the parking lot and punching it.

* * *

Darcy couldn't quite pin down when exactly it all went wrong. One minute she was driving peacefully down the road. Then she was stuck in a salty phone call with Agent Hawkass, and the next thing she knew the Tesla was stuck on the side of the road, just inches shy from hitting a tree. Clint's voice was floating somewhere in the background asking her what was going on. She couldn't really figure out how to answer him.

There was smoke still coming off the road from where her tires had skidded. There was glass in her hair.

Darcy groaned and tried to move but hissed when she aggravated a shard of glass that was caught between her leg and the leather seat. Her face was wet, and her mouth tasted like metal. Slowly her whole body began to burn.

Teeth clenched in a noiseless hiss, Darcy jammed her hand against the seat belt a couple times, trying desperately to unlock it. She could hear footsteps on the asphalt outside the car. Hushed voices and the rumble of an engine.

A radio beeped and a male voice told the person on the other end that they had a lock on their target. Darcy pounded at the seat belt, tore at the fabric, trying desperately to get free.

Clint's muffled voice was grim in the background, but she heard him clearly when he told her to hold on.

The belt came lose with one last jab from her bloody hand. It zipped back just in time for one of the men to make it to the back window. In the mirror she saw his gun aimed inward and she feigned unconsciousness while her hand felt wildly around for some sort of weapon.

She closed her eyes and evened out her breathing as he made his way to the driver side door, waited as he tore it open and felt for her pulse.

"Target is unconscious. Prepare for extraction."

Darcy's hand clenched tightly around the pen she'd found buried between the seats and waited until he'd pulled her completely out of the car before jamming the pen as hard as she could into the space above his bullet proof vest with a scream.

He dropped her with a cry of alarm and watched completely dumbfounded as she stumbled and ran away. His team behind him started yelling, trying to figure out what the fuck had happened.

Brock Rumlow, on the other hand, pulled the pen out of his neck and turned it around in his hand.

"We need her alive boys." He said to them. "Don't shoot her."

And then he strode in the direction she had run toward, knowing that he'd find her somewhere past the tree line.

* * *

"Come on Jarvis don't tell me we're completely blind out there," Clint said through clenched teeth from his place in the cockpit. "Do we have video feed from the car?"

"Yes sir, I will play it now."

Sam leaned in to view the footage from behind Clint as they made their way to Darcy's last known location.

The two of them watched as the view from the windshield as an unknown shockwave rocked the road, watched the car skid across the highway and into a small tree. Saw the cracked class and Darcy's head slam down on the steering wheel.

From what the camera caught in the mirrors, there were at least six men. One of which had an all too familiar face.

"Fucking Rumlow," Clint growled under his breath.

"That dude needs to learn how to die." Sam cried out pointing at the screen.

Their response time was five minutes in the quinjet. And their plan was half-cocked, but it was better than nothing. They'd hear about it later, they knew.

Clint dropped the ramp in the air, allowing for Sam to duck out the back. He watched his teammate swoop down and take out two of the straggling assailants with a clip of his wings. Before settling down by the wrecked Tesla. Clint landed and tore out of the plane.

They neutralized the last three of Rumlow's team before going in search of Darcy and Brock.

* * *

When Barton and Wilson stumbled across Darcy a few yards into the woods, they didn't know she was there and she didn't know they were them. So, it was safe to say that Sam was a little surprised when the woman landed on his back, wrapped arms around his neck and began to squeeze.

In a quick maneuver he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, stopping short from slamming her into the ground when he saw who exactly it was that was trying to kill him.

"Darcy," He whispered roughly and shook the panicking girl "Darce, it's me. It's Sam."

Clint gave her a once over from afar, content to let Sam handle that situation while he kept his eyes on the trees around them.

"We gotta move." He told them. Rumlow was too quiet for his own good.

Clint lead them out of the woods but held up a fist and crouched down upon reaching the tree line. Sam shoved Darcy down, instructing her to crawl her way over to Clint. He held a finger to his lips before nudging her and mouthing _Go._

The road was teeming with black SUVs and all terrain vehicles. The quinjet was surrounded by Hydra goons and high-power weaponry.

"Where's everyone else?" Darcy hissed at Clint.

"We are everyone else Darce," Sam muttered.

"People know where we are right?"

"Jarvis does," Clint said grimly.

"What's the plan exactly?" Darcy tried to ignore the twinge of panic in her chest and her burning skin. Her wounds were totally going to get infected if she didn't get murdered first.

A couple of the goons had moved the Tesla onto the road again, where it was waiting most likely to be towed.

"The car," Clint said. "We need to get to the car."

"Do we know if it'll even start though man…" Sam said incredulously.

Darcy pulled away from where Sam was applying pressure to the wound on her bicep and reached into her front pocket.

"One way to find out," She said smugly and dangled the key fob between them before holding down the auto-start button and watching the car shrewdly.

It was barely there, looked like a glare off the metal from the sun. But they knew that the car had started. Knew that if the Hydra agents milling about were paying attention, they would notice the distinct purr of a well-crafted engine and the radio playing softly inside. But above all the shouting, the engines of the other cars, and the radio chatter. No one paid the vehicle a second glance. They were too busy organizing teams to search the woods, while Rumlow cussed up a storm at anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross his path.

"Go," Sam nodded at Clint. "We're right behind you."

Clint snatched the fob out of Darcy's hands, moved noiselessly up the wall of the small ditch they were in, through the brush, and stopped at the passenger side door. Double checking to make sure he remained undetected he gave a gentle tug and smiled as the door clicked open. A quick hand gesture and Sam ushered Darcy up the hill and out of the ditch. She felt his hand settle on the back of her neck, forcing her to stay low as they ran. When they made it to Clint, they didn't fuck around. Sam shoved Darcy face first into the back seat, while Clint hopped into the passenger seat. She beat him to the wheel though, having slithered over the center console. He looked like her was about to argue with her once he and Sam tugged the car doors quietly closed.

"Look dude," she whisper-yelled. "I get that I am way out of my depth here and I'll do any of the stupid training you want. But when this shit inevitably gets worse. I think we can all agree that we want Hawkeye to be shooting instead of driving the fucking car, don't you think?"

"She's got a point man. Darcy put on your seatbelt and floor it." Sam directed her. His gun already cocked and aimed at one of the goons standing by one of the armored cars.

She buckled up quick, threw the car in drive and stomped her foot on the gas. Not even bothering to look at the stunned Hydra agents that she passed by. She didn't dare look in the rear-view to see how many pursued them. Darcy only had eyes for what was in front of her.

The back window shattered as she drove, and Clint shouted something at her, but she couldn't hear anything but the zip of a bullet flying past her ear.

"FUCK!" She looked wildly over at him and his face was grim as he gave her a quick once over before hopping back up leaning out the window. Darcy was the problem child of a couple of New Mexico hippies, she'd never believed in violence. Never condoned killing. And there was a part of her deep down that felt sick at the fact that she was watching two of her friends openly and knowingly try to kill people, felt sick that the thought relieved her. But she kept the car pointed forward and shot like lightening down the highway anyway.

A shout from the back had her swerving and looking behind her. Sam was clutching at his abdomen, hissing, blood spreading slowly beneath his fingertips.

"Fuck Sam!" She screeched. "Just don't die dude! I'm gonna get us out of here!" She didn't know how – didn't even know where to go. A glance in the rearview was a mistake. Two armored vehicles and a set of motorcycles were gaining on them quickly.

Sam was injured in the back seat and Clint just kept shooting. She saw a bullet fly through the windshield of one of the cars before the driver swerved and crashed into the center divider. One of the motorcycles pulled ahead, the driver aiming her gun through window at Darcy's head. That's about when Darcy lost her voice completely.

All she could see was a finger on a trigger. All she could hear was the sound of bullet casings hitting the floor and the dash. The roar of the road and the shouting and hissing of violent men.

If ever they made a movie about Darcy Lewis's life it would start here – a freeze frame of complete and utter chaos – before even bothering to address the shit with the aliens and the scientists and the series of world ending events that she always found herself in the middle of. The movie would start right there in the car. With her eyes wide and unblinking; her foot pressed so hard on the gas pedal that she was almost standing in the driver's seat with bullets flying past her head.

Clint Barton, hanging out the passenger side window, was taking shots at the car behind them and yelling at her not to fucking stop for anything. And Sam Wilson, cussing up a storm in the back seat, was bleeding from the abdomen when he kicked out one of the back windows and busted the head of the woman on the motorcycle against the car door. The motorcycle flew into the air and landed a few yards away.

If Darcy could talk, she'd be screaming. But she was silent and hyperventilating instead. Her heart was beating a bruise into her rib cage, and she was pretty sure they were all going to die.

And then, on the horizon, two new motorcycles cut a blur through the air as they drove straight toward the Tesla. But Darcy couldn't talk, couldn't warn Clint who was looking behind them or Sam who was a little preoccupied with bleeding out in the back seat. Just as Darcy had resigned herself to becoming a killer, just as she decided she'd have to ram into the bikes before they killed her and her friends, she caught a glimpse of red hair and the glint of vibranium. Darcy held the wheel straight and let out a choked laugh as the Black Widow and Captain America shot past them on both sides. Shooting the group a small wave and a lazy salute respectively. Just minutes after, Clint interrupted her adrenaline fueled haze.

"Slow down Darce." Clint ordered, placing his left hand over hers where they held onto the steering wheel.

"Slow down Darce." He said again, softly.

She took her foot off the gas before applying pressure to the break. When the car finally stopped. Clint threw it in park for her, before hopping out and jogging around to Sam's door.

"Lookin good there Wilson," He smirked and helped the man get out of the car to lay on the asphalt.

Behind them the Black Widow, Captain America and Iron Man were rounding up the survivors for questioning and a couple of unmarked SHIELD vehicles were arriving on the scene.

Darcy was perplexed, not quite sure when Stark had gotten there. She hadn't remembered seeing him with Natasha and Steve but shrugged it off. She went back to staring forward, watching the horizon. Itching to take off again, and not look behind her.

Clint was applying pressure to Sam's wound, briefing the medical team on everything he knew about what had happened. They loaded Sam on chopper and took off. Clint looked at his approaching teammates tiredly before heading back to Darcy.

She was still clutching the steering wheel when he crouched down next to her. Wouldn't let go when he asked her to. She didn't notice when Natasha nudged him out of the way.

"I leave you alone with the boys for only a week and already you are driving their getaway vehicles, Milaya?" Natasha joked gently before reaching in and taking Darcy's hands off the steering wheel.

"Come on, Darcy. It's time to go home and get you checked out." She said and pulled the girl out of the car with deceptively strong arms. She wrapped Darcy in the shock blanket Steve produced from thin air.

Darcy looked miserably up at Tony.

"I wrecked your car."

He snorted.

"No shit Lewis. Christ." Tony said.

Steve looked at Tony like he was gonna scold him but Stark cut him off.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm getting the new model. Whatever." He waved a nonchalant hand in the air.

"Take-out at my place tonight." He looked the kid over and flipped down his face plate. "Be there or be lame." Then he made his exit.

Darcy laughed tiredly before leaning into Natasha's embrace. As the group made their way back to the quinjet Darcy piped up, her voice raw.

"Is anyone else like really hungry now?"


	4. Calamity, Jane!

**Really struggled with starting this one, but it is arguably my favorite chapter so far.**

Calamity, Jane!

The thing about Jane was, well, she wasn't the _most _sympathetic person that Darcy had ever known. That's not to say that she didn't have a big heart or anything…it's just that Jane's heart was ruled largely by cold logic and the laws of science. Which lead to a lot of colorful discussions between the two friends – one a scientist and one very much a humanist.

And these discussions naturally happened in a lot of really sketchy places. Like that time in Puente Antiguo, before Thor, when they were chasing storms in the middle of the night and almost drove off a cliff while they argued about the advances in modern science that occurred during World War Two. And later, when they got into it on the face of an active volcano because it was the only place on the god damned island that didn't set their instruments on the fritz. And again in London, when Darcy tried to address the socio-economic and psychological impact of what had occurred – clarification: what they "willfully and actively played a MAJOR role in, Jane!" – and all Jane could rave about was the data she was able to collect.

It's not that Jane was heartless in any of these scenarios. She did truly care about the well-being of humanity and the ethics of it all. But she was also notoriously one track minded.

So, Darcy was far from surprised when she woke up to her little munchkin of a boss tearing through her apartment at four a.m., grabbing all of Darcy's pop tarts and yelling for her to get her shoes on and meet her at the van.

Yes. The van. The van that had survived heaven, hell and everything in between – the one that Tony tried to have impounded when it arrived at the tower – was still very much a part of Jane's "method."

Remove the van, and superstitious Jane would quite possibly lose her grasp on reality. Darcy made sure that was added to her boss's file when they moved in.

So, when Jane burst into her apartment, Darcy did what she'd been doing for years now. She hopped out of bed and pulled on a good pair of running shoes and a sports bra, not bothering to change out of her pajamas. She threw her hair up in a ponytail while she waited for the coffee to finish brewing. Then, two travel mugs in hand, she headed down to the elevator and got in the driver's seat.

It wasn't until they were on the street that Darcy realized the city was in a complete fucking panic. The quinjet was doing some crazy maneuver overhead and the Hulk was jumping from building to building snatching dark figures midair.

The roads were blocked largely by abandoned vehicles, children were crying, grown men were crying too. And everyone everywhere was trying to get the hell off the street and out of the way.

Then there was Jane. Jane was chattering away to herself and to Darcy, using terminology Darcy never really bothered to actively learn.

The gadgets in the back were beeping and wailing frantically as Darcy drove through the mess that was Midtown Manhattan. Jane rolled down her window to stick the top half of her body outside and hold the little beeping thingamajig closer to the sky. A sky which had filled with clouds and thunder. A streak of lightening followed a certain blonde-haired god as he flew down from who-even-knows-where and into the fray. Jane didn't so much as blink at the noise, at the man she loved, or at Captain America's shield when it flew past and nearly decapitated her. Jane didn't see Bucky catch it and she didn't notice the completely fucking bewildered look he threw Darcy, as she and her boss rolled slowly passed him, weaving in and out of the rubble and cars that littered the street.

"These readings are amazing, Darcy!" Jane said in the throes of some sort of academic ecstasy. "We have to get closer!"

"Janie, I don't think—"

"LOOK!" Jane shoved the monitor in Darcy's face, not even caring that she was obstructing the driver's vision in the middle of a war zone. "The readings indicate that the source is just over there!"

She pointed in the direction of a collapsed building, on top of which the Scarlett Witch and Black Widow were battling it out with a horde of shadow-monster looking things. Darcy had a feeling these ones came from space…

"We can't go over there, Jane!"

"I know. I know," she muttered with a huff and looked around. "The van is never gonna make it. We'll just have to go on foot."

And before Darcy could argue, Jane hopped out and started running toward the rubble and the source of her signal.

Darcy groaned and tried to keep from hyperventilating as she climbed out of the safety of the car and made to follow Jane, barely taking a step before an alien arm landed at her feet and started crawling toward her.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. EW._

She tried tazing it but the electrical current just made the arm crawl faster. Scrambling away Darcy grabbed a piece of concrete from the rubble. Squealing as she brought it down onto the wrist, she beat it until the hand was severed off. Then she dropped the rubble on the hand, hoping to at least trap the still crawling fingers and keep them from following her.

"DARCY" Jane called back to her friend from her place halfway up the pile of rubble. "HURRY UP! AND DON'T FORGET THE PHASEMETER 2.0!"

"Jane, I don't really want to die for science today!"

"We aren't going to die, Darcy! Everything is perfectly under control! Now let's go before we lose the signal!"

Darcy really meant to grab the phasemeter 2.0 for Jane. She thought the whole adventure was fucking nuts, but she _really_ meant to follow after her best friend, if only to make sure Janie didn't willingly go back to the mothership so she could collect better data.

Problem was, Darcy made the mistake of looking around her. She couldn't ignore the fires that had broken out and the people screaming. Darcy had gone to open the back of the van and instead ended up helping an old lady into the subway station people had ducked into for shelter. She was heading back to the van when she saw a little orange paw, reaching out from under a pile of smoking concrete. So, she tore away at the rubble and held the kitten tight to her chest, using her shirt to wipe the gunk off his little nose. She made it back to the van and dumped him inside, gave him water out of her hand. She grabbed the phasemeter for Jane and went to chase after her AWOL friend…but then a father had lost his son in the chaos. So, she stopped her ascent of the collapsed building so she could turn back and help the man call out for his kid. And on and on it went, until suddenly she realized that the sounds of fighting had stopped. No more creatures were dive bombing them from the sky. The iron legion had set to work around the city, helping first responders organize the chaos and calm people down. The sun was peeking out over the skyscrapers and Jane was walking grumpily back to the van, completely oblivious to the black goo that was oozing down her jeans and shoes.

"Hey," Darcy said, exhausted.

"We lost the signal Darcy."

"I'm sorry Janie," She squeezed the other woman's shoulder. "We'll get 'em next time."

"We would have had them _this_ time," Jane cried before climbing into the driver's seat. She continued when Darcy hopped in. "Where did you even go? One minute you were right behind me with the phasemeter 2.0 and the next it's like poof! You disappeared."

"I disappeared? Jane—" Darcy spluttered. "You disappeared! I was here! Like the whole time! The van was in my line of sight the entire time."

She held the kitten tightly in her arms and cooed while Jane talked on and on about missed opportunities, skewed data, and how distracted Darcy was acting lately.

Darcy himmed and hawed at the appropriate moments, knowing that after Jane had a full eight hours sleep, she would wake up to the news of the attack on New York and be absolutely horrified at what had occurred. It would take her another four waking hours to realize that she had in fact been there for the worst of it, but by then she would be in science mode and she wouldn't pay it much more than a passing thought – mind moving a mile a minute as she processed the information she _was_ able to obtain that night.

It took two weeks before Jane noticed a little orange addition to their team, sleeping peacefully in Darcy's desk drawer.

"When did you get a kitten?" Jane asked.

"Couple weeks ago," Darcy said nonchalantly.

"He's cute," Jane cooed and reached down to rub the scrunched-up bridge of his nose. "What's his name?"

"Oh, I named him Fury."

Darcy didn't even bother to look up from her work.


	5. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

**This chapter feels a bit like comfort food. Mentions of depression, just so you know. As a rule this story is big on fluffy endings so...**

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Saturday and Sunday, Darcy hid away from the world. The world didn't notice.

On Monday Darcy woke up with bags under her eyes that she knew no one else would be able to see. It was going to be a red lipstick kind of day, she decided while she was still buried in her comforter.

She ignored the voice in her head that told her she could call in – tell Jane she was taking a sick day. It's not like the place would implode without her. Then she remembered who she worked for – geniuses they all were, but Jane, Bruce and Tony couldn't really be left unsupervised.

Ignoring the coil in her belly Darcy took an extra long shower, pulled on her best pair of skinny jeans and traded out her typical tank top and cardigan for a cute blouse and a blazer. She spent an extra ten minutes on her makeup before finally leaving for the labs.

Darcy had bags under her eyes that no one else could see, but her outfit added a temporary swagger to her step. Then one of the lab monkeys did a double take when he got in the elevator. Darcy tugged at her top and moved a little further into the corner. She thought to herself that maybe she should go back and change. Kept glancing discreetly down to make sure her cleavage wasn't out of control, she kept tugging at the back of her blouse to make sure it wasn't riding up.

By the time the elevator stopped at her destination, Darcy was one hundred percent certain she looked like a child playing dress up or a cow. She wasn't sure which, maybe a combination of the two.

Every few minutes she pulled out her phone to make sure her lipstick hadn't smudged. She was pretty sure it had. The camera on her phone said otherwise.

Tuesday was only worse. She had planned on taking her time getting ready like she had the day before, but no matter how many times she snoozed Darcy couldn't seem to drag herself from her bed.

She pressed her forehead against the tile in her shower while standing under the spray. Her mind typically ran a mile a minute in those moments, but not a single thought entered or exited her mind. The water turned cold before she shut it off, and she stood there wrapped in her towel for a while, still just…leaning against the wall.

In the labs that day, Tony made a joke about her college dropout status. It wasn't meant to be malicious – just Tony being Tony – but her mind kicked into overdrive and the heavy weight that had been in her chest all day turned into molten lava.

She didn't say anything about it. Didn't say anything about the fact that she'd spent so many years being jerked around by SHIELD and their thugs, following Jane into every life-threatening situation the woman could find, being told when and where to be by every person who thought they knew better than she did about her own life. Didn't say that she never even got the chance to go back and complete her final semester.

She had all the debt and no degree. And yeah, some of that was her fault. She didn't go back right away because she didn't know what she wanted anymore. Everything felt so insignificant in the wake of the destroyer. And she wasn't allowed to _talk _about it with anyone. It's not like she had medical insurance – sure as hell couldn't pay out of pocket for a therapist that she would have to lie to about the source of her trauma.

And since she wasn't a SHIELD agent, their mental health professionals weren't available to her. By the time Stark Industries had employed her, years had passed. It didn't even occur to them to ask if she had worked through everything that happened to her. It didn't even occur to anyone to ask her what she wanted, if she regretted not finishing her degree. It didn't occur to them that the two major world ending disasters that she had survived as well as being forced to move all over the world without always being told where and why she had to, may have been a bit of a tough situation to work through on her own.

She was constantly jerked around in the name of science and of safety, all the while keeping her mouth shut about stuff she didn't have the clearance – or preparation – for. But Darcy didn't really think she could complain, it's not like she ever spoke up about the issues she was having.

Darcy didn't say any of that to Tony though. Couldn't say any of that. Because the person she would have been saying it to had been tortured almost to death, saved himself and then became a superhero all with a piece of shrapnel stuck in his chest.

Darcy didn't say any of that because Bruce was standing there. And the man had way more baggage then she could ever possibly comprehend. And Jane too was next to her, oblivious to how much Stark's words had hurt Darcy. But Darcy couldn't say anything with Jane standing there…because then Jane would feel guilty for dragging Darcy into it all. And it wasn't Jane's fault that Darcy hated herself sometimes. Making her boss feel bad would just make Darcy feel like even more of a loser.

It wasn't the first time that Darcy thought she should just shut up and feel grateful. She really fucking wanted to _just_ be grateful. But in that moment, all Darcy could think was that she was a charity case and she didn't deserve it.

The three geniuses didn't notice when the girl's fingers started tracing patterns onto her desk. They didn't notice the hard edge around her eyes or the blank expression she adopted.

When Darcy finished her work for the day, she robotically headed for the elevator. When the doors opened, she held in a groan to find that not only was it occupied, but it was occupied by Pepper and Colonel Rhodes. She smiled brightly at them, wondered if they could see through it. She barely registered the smiles and greetings they shot her way as she stepped in next to them. They struck up a conversation, but even as it was happening Darcy had no idea what they were talking about. She just responded at the appropriate moments with the most generic contributions she could muster. Her throat was tight, and it took forever to reach her floor. Darcy said goodbye and made her exit.

She couldn't decide if she was hurt or relieved that neither of them followed her out or asked her what was wrong. To be honest, she didn't even know if they could tell anything was wrong with her. But the two of them were busy people, and she didn't really know them that well anyway. It made sense really, that they wouldn't notice her.

That stung a little bit too.

She undressed when she got into her apartment before walking quickly to her bed. Once she was cocooned in the safety of her comforter Darcy let herself cry.

* * *

Darcy walked in on Sam and Rhodey having a hushed conversation in the common area on Wednesday. She hadn't known they were there and they hadn't heard her coming.

They stopped short when she entered, looked seriously in her direction, before offering a couple of forced smiles.

Darcy stuttered and made to leave when Sam told her not to worry about it, to stay, that he and Rhodey were on their way out anyway. She fidgeted and made to respond with something, anything…but Darcy couldn't find her voice.

She offered them an awkward smile as they ushered past her. Sam squeezed her shoulder warmly before he departed. And suddenly, she really wanted to ask him for a hug. It hit her, as was typical when she is having a dark period, that Darcy couldn't remember the last time she hugged someone. And then she thought of her dad, who always gave the best hugs – thought maybe she should call him but talked herself out of it. She didn't turn around while Sam's hand was on her shoulder, didn't want him to see her when she started to cry.

* * *

On Thursday Darcy didn't leave her room.

Jarvis wasn't sure if he was necessarily _capable_ of being concerned. But for the last four weeks and three days, the AI had been noticing several alarming abnormalities in Darcy Lewis's behavior.

When he first detected this spike in behavior change, he searched the memory files he had stored of her to see if he could detect a pattern. He found that Miss Lewis had, in fact, experienced such abnormalities in the past but he had failed to flag them as important; They appeared to happen erratically and with no obvious catalyzing event. At least of what he was able to detect. It was quite possible Jarvis was missing a valuable data point.

The AI wasn't sure if he was capable of being concerned, but he had carefully reviewed all of the published works in the most notable psychology databases, as well as several excerpts from Winnie the Pooh. And all of them indicated that the behaviors the he was detecting in Darcy Lewis were textbook causes for concern and intervention from someone who was capable of such things, of course.

First, he tried to alert Dr. Foster. But she was engrossed in her work and did not hear his calls.

Then he tried to tell Sir, but he told Jarvis that whatever he had to tell him would have to wait until he and Pepper got back from Mumbai.

Dr. Banner was away with Agents Romanov and Barton so he ruled them out as possibilities.

Senior Airman Wilson was, quite possibly, the most qualified resident of the Tower to speak with Miss Lewis, but he too had left for training under the instruction of Colonel Rhodes.

Not for the first time, Jarvis very much regretted that he did not have a corporeal form.

Then as though the man had sensed the AI's dilemma, Captain Roger's called out to him from Subsection 7 – the shooting range where he had spent the better part of his morning.

"Yes, Captain Rogers?" He responded to the call.

He carefully placed the orders in that the Captain requested from him and made a couple of notes on the equipment files for the Captain's later review.

Just as the man bid him thanks in polite dismissal, Jarvis decided it was best to alert the man to his findings sooner rather than later.

"Captain Rogers, if I may…" He always experienced a bit of hesitation when he stretched his limits past the original parameters of his code.

The Captain though looked up at the ceiling, as he always did when speaking to the AI, and nodded.

"Go ahead, Jarvis."

"I hope I am not speaking out of turn, Sir… but I have noticed a number of behavioral abnormalities in Miss Lewis…"

"Abnormalities, Jarvis?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, Captain. Everything I have detected in her behaviors as of late is symptomatic of a number of very serious conditions. After several weeks of research, and suggesting to Miss Lewis herself that she seek out the assistance of a professional to no avail, I fear that she may be suffering from some sort of depressive or anxiety disorder. Quite possibly both."

Steve's eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he wracked his brain for the last time he saw Darcy.

"Not that I'm not grateful you brought to my attention, Jarvis," Steve said. "But why, exactly, are you telling me? Isn't there someone else a little more qualified…?"

If an AI could sound exasperated…

"Well Captain after several attempts to alert Dr. Foster and examining all possible options – most of whom are currently away from the tower on official business – I found the number of qualified people considerably diminished," he said. "And in the time it has taken for someone to notice, I fear that Miss Lewis has become increasingly isolated."

Steve processed the information Jarvis had dropped into his lap with a furrowed brow.

The AI spoke again after a beat.

"Captain…I know that you do not think yourself qualified to help Miss Lewis but it is to my understanding that quite often it is the presence of a friend that makes all the difference to a person who is hurting."

"You're not wrong," Steve said quietly before shaking his head.

* * *

Later that day, Steve knocked gently on the door to Darcy's apartment. No one answered. He knocked again before Jarvis piped up.

"Captain Rogers, Miss Lewis has asked me to inform you that she's contracted a stomach bug and that it would be best if you stay away. She does not want to be responsible for getting you sick."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Tell her I can't get sick."

"I did, sir. She says that you shouldn't have to be subjected to her 'gross sick face."

Steve sighed and leaned his head against the door jamb.

"She's lying right? Jarvis?"

"I'm afraid I cannot answer that question at this time, Captain."

He nodded and pushed off the wall, then raising his voice so she could hear him from the hallway.

"Be back tomorrow Darce. I'll bring ya some broth."

* * *

On Friday, Darcy ordered a pizza. She selected a movie to watch and proceeded to move her whole bedroom into her living room. Creating a tiny nest of sadness on her couch.

Even though she had showered again, for warmth mostly, Darcy still felt greasy. Her lips were chapped despite the chapstick. And her teeth felt gross in her mouth even though she'd brushed them twice.

She had on a baggy old crewneck and a pair of pajama shorts; thermal socks covered her toes.

A knock at the door.

"Your pizza, Miss Lewis," Jarvis said.

"Thank you, J."

She climbed off her couch and dragged her feet to the door, tugging self-consciously at her attire. Knowing she looked like shit. She threw the door open and came face to face with a determined looking Steve Rogers, holding her box of pizza and what looked like a box of donuts on top. In that brief moment, Darcy's emotions fluctuated so quickly that her face and mind blanked out, and her voice became monotonous.

Steve had stood there and she couldn't decide if she wanted to cry or vomit, hug him and laugh or slam the door in his face. And then she felt so monumentally guilty because there was no way Captain America just had spare time in his day to come over and coddle her. Yet there he was. She was a selfish friend, she decided, but she wanted him to stay.

Steve watched his friend shut down before his eyes but didn't comment. Instead, he offered her a cheeky grin.

"Gonna let me in?"

There was conflict in her eyes, and for a second he thought she would tell him no.

But then she held the door open a little wider and allowed him to pass. Without asking he went straight to the living room, dumped their food on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. He didn't comment on the nest of sadness, but he did raise his eyebrows at the choice of movie. She sat tensely next to him.

"Schindler's List, Darcy?"

"It's a classic film Steven."

"It's a bit…morbid." He looked at her with his concerned puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, it is."

"Mind if we watch something a little more uplifting?"

"Yes."

Steve narrowed his eyes at Darcy. Darcy looked at her toes.

"It's a good movie for crying."

"Yes, it is, but how about we cry at something other than genocide today?" Darcy looked at him then.

"Like Pearl Harbor?"

"Okay, Darce, how about – for _my_ sake – we avoid any and all crying that is related to the war. Would that be alright with you?" He said half-jokingly. "In general, let's avoid anything that involves the senseless killing of innocent people."

She sniffed and shrugged. She was bundled up in her blankets, and tenser than when they'd been at the door. Steve wrapped a long arm around her and pulled her effortlessly against his chest, cuddling her close without comment.

They swapped out Schindler's List for Steel Magnolias. Darcy ugly cried, Steve wouldn't admit it, but he wiped away a few tears of his own too.

On Saturday, Captain America was called away to help The Black Widow and Hawkeye out of a rough spot – all of them wanting to avoid a code green.

Darcy spent another day hiding in her apartment. No one knocked on her door and she hated that she was self-absorbed enough to think any of them had time to notice her at all.

Sunday passed much the same.

On Monday, Darcy considered calling in sick. Then she remembered who she worked for and decided it was best that she go in, if only the make sure the labs didn't crumble in her absence.

She tugged on an old pair of jeans and a sweater, before heading to the elevator. Put in her headphones so she didn't have to talk to anyone.

She leaned against the back of the elevator as it descended, groaning when it paused before her stop. The doors opened to reveal Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner, looking beyond tired. Bruce was clad in a pair of spare sweatpants and a hoodie; Steve had the top half of his suit undone, his shield resting on his forearm. She nodded at them but didn't turn off her music.

Steve looked at her, his lips moving. She squinted and shook her head, before tearing out one of her earbuds.

"What?" She asked him. "I couldn't hear you."

"I asked what you were listening to." His voice was warm.

"Oh…um. Tears for Fears."

"Pardon?"

"You know…Tears for Fears." He shrugged. "Everybody Wants to Rule the World?"

He smiled apologetically and shook his head at her.

Darcy sighed and pulled her iPhone out of her pocket, restarted the song and offered him one of her earbuds. He had to do a wall sit to even out their heights, but he accepted the offer nonetheless.

They stayed in the elevator until the song finished playing.


	6. Frank?

**This chapter took a darker turn than expected. May be triggering as there is one main depiction of a violent scenario. No sexual violence of any kind. **

**Also, I had some questions about the new characters in this chapter so I figured I would go back and add that I accidentally on purpose crossed over with the Punisher for like a split second. It probably won't happen again, but no guarantees. **

**As always, I'd love to hear what you think.**

* * *

Frank?

It was easy to forget that the people she lived and worked with were dangerous. When she really stopped to think about it, Darcy couldn't think of a single person in her immediate circle that shouldn't scare the ever loving to shit out of her.

Even Jane…call her oblivious and one track minded, whatever, but if that girl ever got it in her mind to get rid of someone or a bunch of people, she could do it without a trace of evidence. Just…poof! They'd be gone. Sent off somewhere into the darkest pits of space. Hell, Jane could probably reduce someone to an atomic level – literally tear them to pieces so small they'd be undetectable. And as far as threat levels go Jane was second to lowest, followed only by Darcy herself.

Darcy wondered if her relative normality was part of the reason that she forgot the true natures of the people she loved. Because she lacked some sort of quality that the rest of them had. When she thought about it, she knew that Natasha and Bucky had circled each other for weeks before finally, after careful and intense deliberation, choosing to place their trust in one another.

They obviously had some kind of history – Darcy wasn't sure of the details, but the history was there – they recognized each other for the threats that they were. Even now, on the same team, they approached each other with a level of calculation that disturbed Darcy.

She knew of course, that both were assassins. That both had carried out unimaginable acts under the control of evil men. It was just so hard to reconcile those facts with the Natasha Romanov that she decorated Christmas trees with for charity. Couldn't reconcile the ghost story of the Winter Soldier, with the Cheshire smile Bucky shot her when he was up to no good. And it was pretty much the same problem with every other member of the team. Tony Stark wasn't given the name Merchant of Death for shits and giggles. It was a title he earned before he recognized the error of his ways and _chose_ to use his power for good.

But the fact that her friends were dangerous wasn't the issue for Darcy. The issue for Darcy lied in the fact that she struggled to recognize things for what they were. She wasn't necessarily naïve so much as she was unable to see nuance when she was standing too close to a situation.

For instance, Darcy had faced the Destroyer in New Mexico and Dark Elves in London and survived. And she was absolutely bone-deep terrified that something of that magnitude would happen again, and that it wouldn't end well for her. She recognized the danger of those situations and knew that she was woefully unprepared to defend herself. Flying by the seat of her pants would only take her so far in that evolutionary game. That being said, those events caused an imbalance in her mind. She became too focused on fearing them that she took a rather blasé attitude toward the everyday dangers the world could present.

So preoccupied with the stars and what could be coming, Darcy sometimes forgot about what could come from the depths of an alley way. It's not like she was intentionally careless. She was distracted. Even though Clint had drilled it into her head multiple times about the dangers of the city, of being on her own, and the target she had on her back by association. A girl who lived in Avenger's Tower, worked intimately with a high-profile, high-clearance astrophysicist, and had been seen publicly many times with two super soldiers was – without a doubt – on someone's radar. And she had been assured many times that she didn't want to find out whose. Clint drilled escape tactics and defense mechanisms into her head. Constantly reminded her how to detect when she was being followed. Preached vigilance constantly.

Repeatedly.

And she believed him. She let him train her in all the ways he saw fit. She even spent a day at the shooting range with him and Bucky once, before they firmly decided to keep any and all firearms out of her hands for as long as they lived. Darcy thought that was a bit extreme, but after reviewing the security footage Steve agreed with them wholeheartedly.

What Darcy enjoyed the most about her training – and trust her when she said there wasn't a lot to enjoy – was trying to figure out whether someone was tailing her as she went about her day. Clint was always so proud when she caught him, even though he assured her that it was only because he was letting her. Which she thought of as total and utter bullshit. Since Steve and Bucky had shown her around the city a couple times, Darcy had gotten a lot more confident in going out to explore. And had started advocating for herself enough to get the time to go out and have some semblance of a life.

But sometimes it was hard to apply her training to real life. What Clint asked of her was far from unreasonable. It's just, in the real world outside of all the Avenger's stuff…Darcy failed to see threats where her friends would. She failed to see them because she _chose _to see the good in things, even when those things were scary on the surface. And even though Steve and Bucky had made their trips around town a regular thing, she was still new to the city. If she started to see only the shadows in it, she'd never leave her apartment. But instead, when she found the time, Darcy would go off on her own and expand her comfort zone bit by bit. Which meant that, on occasion, she made a wrong turn. Or two. Darcy stopped for a minute to look around her. Maybe three.

She didn't recognize any of the buildings. The street signs were all wrong and they didn't have the best lighting. For the first time, nighttime on the streets of New York felt like night. There was a silence here that she hadn't really anticipated. She passed by only the occasional pedestrian and none of them seemed like the type that would give directions for free.

It had taken her too long to realize she was lost, it took her only a second after that realization to notice she was being followed. She tried to act normal as she walked, eyes searching frantically for a crowded street to disappear into…but the further she went the quieter everything was. And she was not alone.

She tried to put her hand in her bag discretely searching for her taser. But when the person following her decided to forgo subtly and simply rush her, she dropped the act and turned to see who it was.

He was easily six foot, wide as a fridge, wearing all black with a small emblem on the arm. Hydra.

Darcy ran. Her taser was clutched tightly in her hands and she didn't look back again. She tried not to run in a straight line as Clint had instructed once. Tried to control her breathing and look out for ways to lose her pursuer in the street.

He always, always instructed her to find a crowd. But Darcy couldn't find a fucking crowd. The whole place was dark and empty, and the Hydra goon was gaining on her quickly.

Then she saw a light, on the third floor of a half-constructed building. She heard men's voices drifting down toward the street, the thud of a sledgehammer against concrete.

Something shot past her ear from behind a – a dart or a knife she didn't know – but Darcy stumbled. Felt fingertips brush through her hair as the man tried to grab her and missed. A burst of adrenaline allowed her to create some distance, but she was tiring fast. So, she took the air that was left in her lungs and shouted up at the building for help. Begged loudly and briefly before the goon behind her tackled her by the waist and forced her to the ground.

Darcy couldn't breathe. Her lungs stunned out of motion, chest rattling with the force of the impact. Her eyes had widened with her mouth as if they too wanted to help her gather more air.

She couldn't breathe, but there was a needle flying toward her neck so she fought anyway hoping her lungs would follow the rest of her body's example. She held his wrist with her left hand, using her right to punch at the inside of her attackers' elbow. He used one hand to pin her arms over her head. She lifted her hips to try to buck him off and kicked at everything she could reach. She must have hit something important because he lost the needle in the process, cussing at her and telling her to keep still and shut up. She spit in his eye before letting out another ear-piercing screech, unable to shake his grasp but trying anyway. He covered her mouth; she bit him and drew blood.

And then he was gone. Out of breath, Darcy laid there for a second. Dazed and uncomprehending. Then she scrambled, hauled herself off the ground, grabbed her taser from the ground where she'd dropped it. Charged it and held it out in front of her.

But the man had just disappeared. She turned around slowly in the street, checking for any sign of her assailant. Not bothering to question it any more than she already had, Darcy picked her bag up off the ground and turned to run back the way she came. Determined to find her way back to the tower and away from the shadows of the city.

She only made it a few feet before the shock wore off and her ankle crumpled under her own weight. She tried to stand back up and move but couldn't seem to get her leg to work. Pushed off the ground and hopped on one foot, breathing heavy she hoped she'd be able to make it back this way. It was doubtful.

Footsteps thudded down the middle of the street from behind her, and Darcy lit up her taser, turned and held the device in front of her to face her attacker once more.

But unlike the Hydra agent from before, this man was stockier. His beard was unkempt, and he wore a pair of steel toed boots, and a white t-shirt that was covered in blood. His eyes were calculating, and his face was grim, but his hands were held out in a peace offering.

"You really don't want to fuck with me, dude." She spit out, but her hands were shaking.

"Hey. Hey now, kid," His voice was gruff but soft as though he was deliberately trying to make himself seem less menacing. "You're okay. I ain't gonna hurt you."

He hunched his shoulders but kept his hands where she could see them.

"Heard you call for help. That's all," He said. "Was up in that building back there."

He pointed to the place with the light she had seen. "Came down to see what was going on and saw that asshole on top of you."

He shook his head and spit.

"Where is he? Did he get away?" Darcy didn't want to talk to this guy. Everything about him was sending warning bells off in her head.

"Don't worry about it, Kid." He looked away from her then. "I took care of him."

Darcy looked down at the blood spatter on his shirt and resisted the urge to vomit all over the street.

"Shit." He wiped his face with his hand before turning back to her. "Name's Pete."

She didn't care.

"You got someone you can call?" He looked down at where she was trying to balance on one foot, her right one resting gently on the ground.

"I'd offer to carry you." He laughed darkly. "But I got a feelin you'd light my ass up before I came over there. And that wouldn't be a good look now would it?"

Darcy growled at him to think carefully about his next move when he reached into his pocket.

"I got a phone if you need it…I'll slide it over to you. You can call whoever you need."

"I have a phone. I don't need yours." She grumbled out, still watching him warily.

He arched an eyebrow and nodded for her to go ahead and use it then.

Another glance at him to make sure he wasn't going to move or do anything stupid, and Darcy fished desperately for her cell phone at the bottom of her bag.

She had several text messages from Tony, asking her why she wasn't in the labs at this time of night. A butt dial from Jane and Thor…ew. And a text from Bucky asking if they were still on for their movie night at 8. She grimaced. It was 8:45. She had a voicemail from him and another from Steve.

She really didn't want to bug either of them that much anyway…she turned back to the guy that had saved her life.

"Do you know a number for a cab?" She asked with no small amount of hesitancy.

He winced and shook his head, appearing genuinely regretful.

"Sorry." He looked at her, looked behind him and then said something to himself – all Darcy could make out was dumbass and crazy fucker. "Look don't take this the wrong way, but I got a car. You shouldn't be walking around alone in these parts anyway…I can drive you wherever you need to go."

Darcy let out a condescending laugh.

"Do I look fucking stupid to you, man? I'm not getting in your car."

"Look kid, I took out that piece of shit that was on top of you easy enough." His voice was raised impatiently. "If I really wanted to hurt you, do you think I'd be standing here like some god damn pussy trying to manipulate your feelings first?"

She dropped her taser and shrugged.

"Look dude, thanks I guess for helping me. It was like really cool of you." Darcy was tired, and her leg was throbbing. "But this is kind of uncharted territory for me."

"Yeah?" He bit out. "I don't make it a habit of picking up strays and chauffeuring them around the damn city, but here we are. You want a ride or not."

She looked down at her phone. She should just call Bucky. She slid the device into her back pocket and hobbled over to where he stood.

"Lead the way, dude. And please don't kill me." She kept her voice light despite the dread that had settled deep in her gut. "I know this is gonna sound like a lie, but I know people who would seriously kill you if you killed me."

He barked out a laugh and wrapped an arm around her waist, taking on her weight as they headed over to his truck.

"Is that right?" He didn't sound convinced.

"Yep."

"Whatever you say."

He opened the passenger side door and lifted her into the cab with ease. She tried but she couldn't ignore the Clint-like voice in her head reading her the riot act, asking her what the fuck she was thinking.

"Where am I taking you?"

"Um.." She couldn't exactly tell him she lived with the Avengers. "On Broadway, you can just drop me near Columbus Circle…I've got a friend over there."

He whistled and turned to look at her.

"How the hell did you end up out here?" He laughed. "Jesus, kid, you are definitely _not_ in Kansas anymore."

He started the engine and pulled out of his spot. Heading toward the financial district.

Darcy's phone screen lit up with Bucky's number, she ignored the call and shot him a quick text that she was sorry she missed movie night but that something had come up and she'd totally catch the next one.

She watched as he began to type a response, stop and then start again. Before sending a quick 'hope everything's okay.'

Darcy locked her screen and put it back in her pocket.

When they got close enough that the tower was in sight, but a good enough ways away that Pete wouldn't know it was her destination, Darcy told him he could pull over.

She could tell he had questions about where she was heading exactly, but he didn't voice them. He threw the truck in park and turned to her with a skeptical look.

"You sure you're gonna be able to walk on that ankle?"

She forced a smile back.

"Sure…piece of cake."

He went to say something more, but his eyes darkened, and he hopped out of the truck. He slid with no small amount of skill over the hood, just as someone wrenched open her passenger side door and carefully dragged her out. She made to yell at her assailant but stopped short when she met Bucky's ice blue gaze.

Pete made to grab for Bucky, but the Winter Soldier blocked him with ease and held Darcy behind him. The two men chested up to each other, not saying a word, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Darcy nervously tapped Bucky on the shoulder.

"Hey..um guys?" Her voice cracked; nerves completely shot. "Hey guys? We're all cool here. Bucky, this is Pete. Pete, this is Bucky. We're good right?"

She slipped out from behind him to stand between the two men.

"I don't think this is the time or place to be starting shit," She looked between them and tried to ignore the curious glances and wide berth others were giving them.

"You know this guy, kid?" Pete spoke to Darcy but kept his eyes on Bucky. Darcy tried not to react to the fact that his trigger finger was twitching as he spoke.

"Yep. Yeah. Totally. Bucky's a really good friend, Pete."

"This guy hurt you, doll?" Bucky's voice was completely unrecognizable to Darcy's ears; it was the first time she'd ever been in the presence of the Winter Soldier as others had seen him.

"What? No. He didn't Bucky."

"Got blood on his shirt."

"Not mine. The guy that hurt me. It's his blood. At least I think it is…I never really asked about that part."

At that Bucky did tear his eyes away from the man in front of him, to stare dumbly at Darcy.

"You didn't think the ask this guy where the blood on his shirt came from before you got in his car?"

"It made sense at the time…?"

"Darcy, doll, Jesus Christ." He looked between her and Pete, narrowed his eyes.

Pete was fluctuating between studying Bucky and looking monumentally bored.

"What'd you do with the guy that attacked her?"

"I took care of him." Pete said as though it was the only answer worth giving. Darcy rolled her eyes, before staring dumbly as Bucky nodded in complete understanding.

"Get a name?" He asked Pete who shook his head.

"Didn't really fuck around with the chit chat."

Bucky snorted.

Pete fished for something in his pocket and tossed it to Bucky.

"Cut that off his tactical gear though," He said. "Thought it might mean something."

Bucky barely glanced at it before tucking the Hydra symbol away.

"It's Hydra." He told Pete as though he was doing him a courtesy by giving him any information at all.

Pete nodded before looking to Darcy.

"Take care of yourself, kid."

Then he jogged around the front of his truck and climbed in.

Bucky used his vibranium hand to knock on the passenger window. He waited until Pete rolled the window all the way down before tossing the man a burner phone he seemed to have produced from midair.

"Look, Castle," Bucky started, his voice low.

The man in the driver's seat shot his head up to get a good look at Bucky then.

"How'd you get that name?" He growled out but Bucky ignored the question. He rested his metal arm on the door.

"Thank you for lookin out for Darcy tonight. If you ever find yourself in a tight spot, give me a call. I'll see what I can do."

"How do you know that name?" Frank repeated.

Bucky gave him a look, then he straightened up and slung his flesh arm around Darcy.

"Take care of yourself, Marine."

He took some of Darcy's weight on as his own, guiding her carefully back to the tower. He deliberately ignored her annoyed comments, and never-ending questions.

When they stopped on the floor that Steve and Bucky shared, he led her to Steve's apartment and swung the door open.

In the living room were Steve, Sam and another man that Darcy had never seen before, who all stood up at the sight in front of them.

"What the fuck happened?" Steve asked as he looked her up and down. Sam left the room and came back with a first aid kit. The other man offered his help, but Sam just smiled tensely and shook his head.

"Set her over here, Barnes," Sam directed.

"Hey, she's right here," Darcy grumbled. "You can talk directly to her and everything."

"Sorry, Darce." Sam said as he helped Bucky settle her on the edge of the couch.

"Ran into your friend, Curt." Bucky said.

The other man, Curtis, looked between Bucky and Darcy incredulously.

Bucky clarified. "Castle."

"Nah man, Frank wouldn't do this." Curtis replied.

"Not Frank," Darcy cut in. "That guy's name was Pete. Sam stop touching my ankle, it's fine." She swatted at the medic's hand before continuing. "And Pete didn't do this. He saved me…I think. I mean, I didn't actually see him do it or anything. But one minute the other guy was there, and then the other guy was gone, and Pete was there. It's all kind of a blur to be honest. Ouch, Sam stop touching my ankle. It's fine."

"If it was fine Darcy you wouldn't be complaining that it hurt," Sam said in a dry voice.

"Well it only hurts when you touch it." She grumbled.

"She can't put any weight on it." Bucky interjected before turning back to Curtis. "Castle drove her here; I didn't know _what_ to think at first, but Darcy says he didn't hurt her and I believe her. Guy that attacked her was Hydra."

"How do you know?" Steve cut in.

Bucky took out the patch Castle had given him and tossed it to his best friend. They traded looks above Darcy's head. That was twice now that Darcy had been targeted. Odds of coincidence were growing slim.

Steve grabbed Darcy a bottle of coconut water from the fridge and a couple of the lighter painkillers he kept in the cupboard. Handed both over to her while Sam cleaned the worst of her gashes.

They all settled down a bit after that. Curtis struck up a conversation with Darcy, keeping her distracted while Sam worked at some of the more painful injuries. Occasionally throwing in a question to check for symptoms of concussion. She couldn't remember if she'd hit her head or not.

Steve asked her to tell them in as much detail as possible what had happened that night, and she did so to the best of her ability. But couldn't quite form words around the moment he had tackled her, felt as though she'd had the wind knocked out of her all over again.

She apologized, but no one blamed her. Curtis took off not too much later. Sam after that. Darcy was already asleep. Steve headed off to talk to Stark about the events of the night, to try to get a video feed and a different perspective. Before he left, he told Bucky to give Darcy his bed for the night. Buck could crash on the couch if he wanted. He wouldn't be back for a while anyway.

Bucky shot off a text, then set to work on his laptop while Darcy slept. When Natasha and Clint walked through the door, Bucky was lifting Darcy off the couch to take her to Steve's room. Clint scanned over his student with a practiced eye, before groaning and rubbing at his face tiredly with both hands. He went to the kitchen and brewed them a pot of caffeinated mud. Natasha dropped down on the couch and grabbed Bucky's laptop to see what progress he'd made while he waited for them. If Hydra had Darcy in the crosshairs, they would be prepared. And they would make sure as hell that Darcy was prepared too.


	7. Great Grandpa Lewis

**This one seems to be a favorite among most of my readers and honestly it's pretty high up on my list as well. It was a total pain to write, but it was worth it. This is a bit like "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" for me...but better lol**

Great Grandpa Lewis

Darcy was face down on a sparring mat when her phone rang the first time. Her arms were twisted behind her back, ponytail falling out, cheek squished up awkwardly due to how she was pressed.

Clint was waiting patiently for her to make her next move.

She tried to shake his hold on her wrists. She couldn't twist her torso without hurting her arms and couldn't throw her head back to hit him without screwing up her neck.

With a grunt and a sigh, she decided she had no choice but to tap out.

"Time out, Clint," Her voice was muffled by the mat.

His grip loosened as he shifted off her and walked over to their water bottles, bringing hers back to where she was rolling over onto her back.

Her phone rang again, and Darcy shifted up to go grab it, but Clint blocked her path with a stern look and a raised brow.

"Nuh uh, Darce. From the moment you walk into this gym til the moment you walk out your ass belongs to your trainer."

"But that's the second time—"

"Who's your trainer Darcy?"

She glared at him.

"Who is your trainer?"

"You are." She said begrudgingly.

"Yes I am. And what is it that your trainer is trying to do here today and every day that you are in this gym?"

"Clint." She growled.

"Tell me, Darcy," He said with a smirk. He knew he was being an asshole.

"You're trying to teach me how to survive my own lack of self-preservation in the hope that I can hold out until help arrives."

"That's right. And sometimes that means you're gonna have to ignore your phone."

She rolled her eyes as he nodded back toward the mat.

"Now, let's try that move again but this time your going to walk me through it. Tell me why you thought you couldn't break it before. You successfully break away once, and you can check your phone. Deal?"

She didn't see the glint of pride in his eyes as she moved back to the mat. Darcy may not have been a great technical fighter – she had no desire to be – but she was scrappy and far more intelligent than she gave herself credit for. Clint couldn't wait for the day that she saw herself for what she could do.

Once, twice more she ended up in the same position. Walked through her doubts with Clint and listened to his feedback. She let him manipulate her body from where she was stuck and tried to commit it to memory.

On the third try, she watched him come at her and it felt like the world had slowed. He swept her legs out from underneath her – Darcy saw it coming but still wasn't quick enough to dodge it. She let her body go limp as she fell, saw him moving in to grab her arms and flip her. But this time, instead of trying to turn and crawl away as she had been doing before, she threw her hands up into his own reach. He caught her right hand but didn't get ahold of her left as it went up and jammed his nose. His head snapped back – partially to lessen the blow he saw coming and partially from the force of her hand. She used his distraction to wrap a leg around his knees. He buckled and she rolled them.

So focused on stopping Clint, Darcy didn't notice that she had him on his back. Didn't notice that she gained the upper hand until the whistles and shouts broke out around her. She stopped her momentum and looked up to see Nat and Bucky had stopped sparring to cheer her on, Sam was wolf whistling while he unwound the tape from his hands, Tony was smirking – leaning on the ropes of the ring with his phone camera pointed toward her and Clint.

Darcy looked back at Clint, eyes wide, to find him smiling up at her proudly…through the blood pouring out of his nose.

"Oh shit, you're bleeding!" Darcy clambered off of him and waved her hands frantically over his face, wanting to help but not knowing what to do.

He laughed out loud before hopping up and walking over to his bag. Grabbing a towel, he wiped most of it off his face.

"I am so sorry Clint. I didn't even think," She wrung her hands nervously next to him. "It's not broken is it?"

"Nah Darce, not broken."

"I really am sorry!"

"Darcy," He looked at her then, dried blood still clinging to parts of his face, with a toothy grin. "You did good."

"But your face—"

"Barely hurts, kid. Think of it as a bruise. How many bruises you got on your body since we started with your training?" He didn't wait for her answer.

"A lot right? And sometimes they really fucking hurt and others you don't know you have 'em. That's how this goes. We never mean to get hurt during training. It's not ideal…but when you're practicing to face someone who will kill you without a second thought, sometimes you hurt the people you're practicing with. It's a bloody nose Darcy. I've had so much worse from people I was a lot less proud of."

She shrugged and smiled hesitantly up at him. He squeezed her shoulder before nodding to her bag.

"Your phone's still goin off."

"Oh shit."

* * *

Arthur Lewis was traditionally a soft-spoken man. Since he was young, he'd always been content to sit back and let others do the talking – unless the talking they did was complete and utter nonsense in which case he had an obligation to tell them that their opinions were bullshit.

In action he was much the same, he was content to take a slower approach to life. Arthur was a man of the greatest generation, a man who knew struggle intimately, knew the seduction of a fast-paced life and trying to keep up with the Joneses. More importantly, Arthur Lewis knew what it was to try to keep up and fail miserably.

He was an old man now, or so he'd been told. And for years he had spent his life perfectly content to sit back and do old man things. Like sit in his recliner and watch the television until the infomercials rolled on every channel. He took two trips to the donut shop – every day – to buy his lotto ticket, an apple fritter, and catch up with Seymore, David and Larry on the local gossip.

He spent every Wednesday afternoon with his youngest great grandchild, little Charlie, when he got out of school. The two of them – one 96 years old, the other only 9 – would sit at the kitchen table with peanut butter-marshmallow graham crackers and an old chess board. They'd sit there for hours and shoot the shit, as men do.

What the family didn't know is that Arthur Lewis had lulled them into complacency – had allowed them to fatten him with their Saturday gluttony and quality time with their progeny. He gleefully accepted their fancy recliner and HD TV respectively for his sciatica and for the luxury.

They thought he dutifully spent his allowance on gas and apple fritters. Bought him scratchers for every birthday, but he never told them when he won. Laughed when he held up a penny and claimed he was rich. They didn't know that when little Charlie searched for loose change in the cushions of his Papa's recliner and the floor underneath, the youngest member and oldest member of the family split the loot fifty-fifty.

What Arthur thought most significant, was that the family failed to remember that in order to survive his childhood he had to be cunning, shrewd, and incredibly responsible with every penny, nickel and dime – if he was even so lucky as to have a dime to spare that is.

Arthur Lewis had a keen awareness of the things his family tried to hide from him – or protect him from – as they liked to phrase it.

He knew Charlie had a problem sitting still in the classroom and that he often got in trouble – knew that his parents had tried several different medications and therapists to no avail. He knew they thought him naïve when he told them how focused their kid got when he plopped down in front of the chess board.

He knew the family was throwing him a surprise party for his 97th birthday in two days' time. And even more than that, he knew that none of them had bothered to call his only great granddaughter to invite her to the affair. Arthur had gathered some time ago that Darcy had some sort of falling out with the family in her last year of college. Darcy had stopped by the house to talk to him about the struggles she was facing, but they were interrupted quite rudely by her mother and father who had felt Darcy was causing Arthur undue stress.

Darcy had apologized to him, kissed him on the cheek, and told him she'd call him when she got to New Mexico to tell him all about her new internship.

He's sorry to say he missed that call, but he saved the voicemail.

In the few times he had seen her since. The girl had lost weight, her eyes had been heavier, her smile a little wan.

It had been almost two years now since Arthur had seen Darcy last – he recalled the awkward family dinner where his children and grandchildren shot looks and whispers to each other the whole night about her. A black sheep, much like he had been back in the day. None of them could understand where her head was at when Darcy decided to move to London in lieu of finishing her last semester of college. Where they saw ungrateful and entitled in his favorite girl, Arthur had seen something in her he had hoped to never see in any of them ever. Arthur looked at her and saw battle fatigue. Tried and true.

Rattled as he was that day, he knew he'd have to do something. Step in as best as he could. After two years of scrounging and saving, Great Grandpa Lewis packed a small bag and bought a ticket.

He got off the train at Grand Central, pulled out his cellular phone and dialed her number by memory. Once. Twice. Five times. He called her. He left a couple voicemails and found a nice bench. He was a patient man. And he knew Darcy would come in time. Always moved at her own pace, that one.

* * *

Back at Avenger's Tower Darcy had turned a sick shade of green. Looked at the time stamp on her list of missed phone calls. Held the voicemail back up to her ear. When she was done listening, she slid her phone into her back pocket with a false sense of calmness, reached down for her messenger bag and slung it up on her shoulder.

"Hot date?" Tony asked from where he and Sam had decided they didn't really want to work out.

"Yeah.." Darcy said but her mind was elsewhere.

"Is everything ok, Darcy?" Sam asked with a wrinkled brow.

"Huh?" She snapped her head around to look at them. "Yeah. Yep, everything is…cool."

Then she turned around and strode toward the door. Ignoring Clint's shout that she wasn't done for the day.

She was halfway down the hall when he caught up to her, keeping pace easily.

"Your ass is still mine for an hour Lewis."

"I'll make it up later Barton."

"No excuses."

"Not making any."

"Fair. But are you or are you not currently trying to ditch out on me?" He said with a raised eyebrow.

"Not ditching, just prioritizing."

"And what exactly could take priority over your ability to keep yourself alive, might I ask?" He scoffed good naturedly and bumped her shoulder.

Darcy gritted her teeth and exhaled through her nose.

"My great grandpa."

Clint stuttered for a second and stopped walking before hustling again to catch up with Darcy as she entered the elevator and hit the button for the Lobby.

"Shit, is he alright? What do you need?"

"No. Clint, nothing like… happened to him. He just apparently decided to run away."

He barked out a surprised laugh before stifling it under her glare.

"Sorry," he coughed. "Seriously, anything I can do? Maybe help you track him down?"

"I don't need help tracking him Clint." Darcy sighed. "He's the one who called me. I've been ignoring my 96-year-old great grandpa for like forty minutes and he's all alone at the train station because apparently he decided it'd just be cool to show up unannounced and stay with me."

"Oh…" Clint scratched his chin. "And this is a bad thing?"

He grunted when her fist made contact with his gut and grabbed her wrist before she could swing again.

"It's not exactly cool that he's stranded right now Clint!" Darcy said.

"No, that part I get," he conceded. "That part is fucked up. And like 17 percent my fault."

"17 Perc—!"

"But isn't it kind of cool that you get to see your great grandfather?"

The elevator doors pinged open at the lobby and he stepped aside so she could exit ahead of him. She shrugged and ducked her head as they made their way outside to try and get a cab at the curb.

"It's not that I don't want to see him…it's just complicated."

Clint waved his hand to get her to continue.

"Last time I saw him the whole family was mad because I was quitting school. I came off as like a vapid, ungrateful bitch when I told them I was going off to London instead. And that was years ago. We haven't talked much since then. I let a lot of people down."

"I'm sure you've been able to clear the air a bit…"

"No, I haven't Clint. I'm like drowning in NDA's and to be honest I don't know how to start the whole 'I live with the Avenger's' conversation with any of them anyway."

"Wait," Clint dropped a hand onto her shoulder. "If they don't know you live here, where do they think you live?"

"Never gave them details. Only ever told them New York."

He looked at her for a moment with an expression she couldn't read. Before he shook his head and hailed a cab.

* * *

Clint didn't really know what to expect of Arthur Lewis. He'd never heard much about the man, except for a brief perusal of Darcy's known associates and family members back when he was working in New Mexico. Never really paid them any mind after that.

So, when he followed Darcy into the train station, he wasn't sure what to make of the man sitting on a bench near the main entrance. He was shorter now than he probably had been back in the day, coming up just under Darcy's height of 5'6 or so what with the slight hunch he walked with. He wore his trousers belted high on his waist, and a collared shirt. His flat cap rested on a coat on top of his small carry on suitcase. But even from where Clint stood a few feet behind Darcy, he could see that Arthur had sharp brown eyes that studied everything. His voice was warm and inviting when he called out to his nervous wreck of a great granddaughter.

"Is that my favorite great grandgirl I see?" He called out and stood with a surprising amount of agility.

He opened his arms wide and squeezed her tight when she reached him.

"I'm your _only_ great grandgirl, Pops."

"And I'm so glad you are." He chuckled and pressed a kiss into her hair. They held onto each other for a moment while Clint looked on. Startled when he realized that Great Grandpa Lewis had locked his eyes on him. Clint nodded at him and gave a polite smile, Arthur's eyes crinkled mischievously in turn before releasing Darcy.

"You gonna introduce me to the boy or not, Darcy-lou?"

Darcy paused and looked down at him in confusion.

"Boy..?"

Clint cleared his throat behind her and her eyes widened as she looked back and forth between her great grandpa and her friend.

"Oh! What? Ew..no Pops," Darcy jerked a thumb in Clint's direction. "Me and him. We're only friends."

"Only friends huh?" He gave her a skeptical look.

She laughed and nudged him gently.

"Yes. Friends. This is Clint." She said.

"Clint, meet my great grandfather Arthur Lewis." She smiled brightly at the introduction and watched the two shake hands.

"Nice to meet you, sir." Clint smiled.

Arthur returned the smile and reached back to grab his stuff from the bench.

"Call me Arthur."

"Pops I got the bag. Let me carry it." Darcy took the bag from him and turned to lead them to the exit when Clint swooped in and took the bag from her before she could blink.

Arthur chuckled at the look of surprise on Darcy's face before patting Clint on the arm.

"Good man," he said before offering Darcy his arm.

"Pops people don't do that anymore," she said with a small exasperated smile.

"I beg to differ. I used to offer you my arm all the time when you were little." Darcy started to protest but he continued. "And the very fact that I am doing it now, proves that people still do it. Or am I not people now that I'm old?"

He gave her the stink eye until she caved, intertwined their arms and walked with him out toward the street with Clint keeping pace beside them.

They got a cab and climbed in. Clint claiming the front seat while the other two sat in the back.

"Haven't been here in ages." Arthur said as he looked out the window, up at the high rises and the passersby.

"I never knew you'd been to New York." Darcy murmured next to him.

He looked back at her with a wide smile and a glint in his eye.

"Oh-ho you bet I have." He laughed to himself and shook his head before looking back out at all the sights.

"A lot has changed since then. Not the same place anymore. Not really."

"So, I should probably tell you before we get there," Darcy hesitated until he focused his attention on her, then she soldiered on.

"I haven't told the family all that much," She said.

"What about?"

"Well, Pops…you remember Jane, right? My boss from New Mexico."

"Of course. The crazy science lady. She doesn't eat properly; it was a whole ordeal. Had your grandmother in a tizzy trying to make you all sorts of snacks to ship down there."

Clint snorted in the front seat.

"Yeah, that's Jane," Darcy said flatly. "But anyway, she's kind of a big deal in the science community now and since we became close, she kinda keeps me in her contracts so I don't get lost in the shuffle."

"Mhmm" He gestured for her to get to the point.

"Well Jane got offered a really great gig and she brought me along with her. And one of the perks is I got to live in her building for free."

"You're living on charity?" His voice was high. "You need money? If you needed money, Darcy, you should have called me. How much do you need?"

He reached in his pocket and pulled out his money clip. Darcy didn't bother to point out that he was on a fixed income. Instead she gently lowered his arm and folded the cash he offered her back into his fist.

"No..that's not really what I was getting to. I earn my keep and I don't owe any one anything. Tony would probably be insulted if I offered to pay anyway."

"Tony? Who is this Tony? I thought you live with Jane."

"I do! Sort of. We're on the same floor but in different apartments. I guess what I am trying to tell you—"

"And failing to tell him." Clint commented dryly from the front seat.

"What I am trying to tell you is that I live in Avenger's Tower."

She looked over at her Pops who was holding a crumpled five-dollar bill loosely in his outstretched hand.

"Avenger's tow—" he spluttered. "Avenger's tower? Darcy. _My_ Darcy? I knew you were special, but a superhero?"

"Wait…what?" Darcy said.

"My great granddaughter is an Avenger." He beamed and reached across to smack the driver on the shoulder. "You hear that? My great granddaughter is a superhero."

"Whoa Pops, no. I am _not_ a superhero."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short to me Darcy-Lou."

"No Pops, I'm serious. I just…live with them. With the Avengers. I work for them kind of. But I'm not like a part of the team or anything.." Darcy laughed nervously and looked at Clint for help.

But he didn't turn around or acknowledge her, simply tried to hide the fact that his shoulders were shaking from laughter.

The cab pulled in front of the building. Clint paid the driver much to Arthur's chagrin and held the door open for the two Lewises. Arthur stalled them on the sidewalk, looking up at the behemoth that was the tower in complete astonishment.

"My Darcy lives here." He chuckled to himself and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "If only Ma could see me now," he said more to himself than to Darcy and Clint before turning his beaming smile on the two of them.

"After you," he said to Darcy.

They made their way into the lobby and toward the private elevators. She whispered to Clint while Pops was distracted.

"How am I even gonna get him up there? It's not like he has the clearance. Jarvis probably won't even start the elevator…" She bit her lip nervously and fidgeted while they waited for the doors to open.

"Don't worry about it." Clint said easily.

"How're you so calm? I'm freakin out here."

He looked at her incredulously.

"You may not have that kind of pull around here, kid. But I do." At her blank look he scoffed. "Have some faith. I'm a lot more than a pretty face you know. I texted Happy the details – he's getting a badge printed and sent up to your apartment right now. Jarvis is already expecting us. Relax."

* * *

After Darcy got Arthur settled in her guest room, he told her to go off and get her work done for the day – that he needed to get cleaned up and take a nap after all the travelling he'd done. She conceded and made her way toward the labs to see if any of the resident geniuses needed anything.

On her way down she shot a text to her dad, letting him know where Pops was in case the old geezer didn't bother to tell anyone. Right after she finished sending the text, her screen lit up with her mother's face on it. Darcy cringed but accepted the call.

"Hey mom."

"He's there?!"

"Yeah, Pops is here."

"Put him on the phone."

"Uh, sorry mom no can do. He's sleeping and I am actually just heading into work."

"Did you know about this Darcy? Why wouldn't you tell anyone? He's too old to be travelling by himself. Anything could have happened. How could you be so irresponsible?"

"Whoa, mom, way to spiral." Darcy said, hackles rising, as she decided to take the stairs to burn off some of her energy.

"I had no idea he was planning this," Darcy said. "I was at the gym and he called me from freaking Grand Central."

"Well your father and I are going to come up there and get him. He shouldn't be alone."

"Wait. What? Mom, no. He's not alone, he's with me. Relax. I know it's a bit of a shock, but he obviously needed to get away and he made it here. Now he's safe and I'll look out for him. You don't need to come out here."

"What, you don't want to see your mother?"

"That's not what I said, and you know it."

There was a loaded silence on the other line, before her mother spoke up again.

"Your father wants to talk to you."

Darcy made it to the door of Tony's lab and leaned her forehead on the glass to watch while he, Bucky and Steve talked about something over Bucky's arm.

"Hey sweetie," Her dad's voice was warm when he spoke, and she could tell by his tone that he'd taken the phone somewhere her mother wasn't.

"Hey." She said to him, opening the door when Tony nodded at her in permission to enter.

She plopped down on a stool next to where the three were huddled.

"Sorry about your mom, you know how she gets."

"I do."

"I take it, Pops surprised you too?" She snorted at the ridiculousness of his question. "Let me know if you need anything. If you need me to go out there, I will. No questions asked. If you got it handled, then just try and have some fun. Spend time with him. His birthday is two days from now, you remember?"

"Yeah, dad." She took a pretzel from the bag Tony shoved her way. "I remember. I'll bake him a cake or something. It'll be fun."

"Love you, kiddo."

"Love you," She hung up and let her phone clatter loudly on the counter surface.

"Trouble in family land?" Tony asked nonchalantly.

"You have no idea," she said leaning over to get a better view of what he was doing to Bucky's arm.

"Does that hurt?" She asked Bucky.

"Twinges a bit, but for the most part no," He said with a slight grimace.

"No deflecting in my lab, Lewis. That's my job." Tony said, waving a screwdriver in her direction.

"What's going on with Mommy and Daddy?"

"Nothing, Stark." She sighed.

He coughed out bullshit and Steve stifled his own smirk with a disapproving glare.

"Seriously, with them…It's nothing out of the ordinary. Great Grandpa Lewis on the other hand…" She rubbed her face warily and accepted another pretzel.

"He kinda ran away from home."

Steve snorted and choked on the water he was drinking. Bucky and Tony both looked up at her incredulously.

"He what now?"

"He ran away."

"Your great grandfather?"

"Yes."

"Do we know where?"

"Here."

All three of them just looked at her at that point.

She nodded; her lips pressed thin from the stress.

"He's taking a nap in my guest room." She shrugged. "He had a long day."

"I'd say so," Stark said bluntly. "Jesus, how old is the guy anyway?"

"96." She said. "97 in like two days."

"And he ran away because…" Tony asked.

"Remains to be seen, Stark. That remains to be seen."

There was really nothing more to say so they kind of just went back to what they were doing. Tony focused more intently on Bucky's arm while Bucky sat there patiently, if a bit uncomfortable.

Darcy and Steve talked about her time in the gym that morning with Clint. He asked her how she felt about the progress she'd made, and she told him that it all kind of felt accidental. He pursed his lips at that but didn't comment. She asked Tony if there was anything he needed help with for the day but he told her no, that she should just take the day off. She rolled her eyes at him and told them she was going to check on Jane and Bruce.

Darcy had taken one look at Bruce with his bloodshot eyes and rumpled hair before swooping in and picking up the stacks of papers he had written in god knows what amount of time.

"These ready for proofing?" she asked him lightly as she tugged him out of his chair.

He nodded wearily and went to take them from her.

"I'm almost done. I just need to make a few annotations before I stop."

"Annotations can come later. I'll give 'em a cursory glance and make sure that there aren't any glaring errors on the non-sciency side." She shoved him out the door and told him to get at least two hours before he came back down. He smiled in tired thanks and turned toward the elevator. Darcy took his stack of papers and curled up on the couch he had in the corner, marking the paper for him to review later on.

An hour or so later, Darcy made her way down the corridor to Jane's lab with a cup of coffee in each hand.

Jane didn't look up when Darcy came in, but her nose twitched at the smell of coffee and she grunted a half human greeting.

"If you want me to give you the coffee you have to back away from the science, Janie."

The woman clenched her pen frustratedly in her hand before releasing it and sighing. She stood from her desk and tried in vain to straighten her clothes. Genius she may be, but Jane wasn't ever gonna be put together for anything.

Darcy handed over a mug and they both leaned on the designated sustenance counter.

"So, Pops is here then?" Jane said, her voice grainy from lack of use.

"Pops is here."

"How'd he take the whole Avengers thing?"

"Well, considering the fact that he thought I was an Avenger for like a whole two minutes. Pretty well."

Jane blinked but didn't question it.

"So…what are you gonna do?"

Darcy shrugged.

"Gonna hang out with my great grandpa."

"Cool."

"His birthday is in two days. Should probably throw him a party. Is that weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"Because he doesn't like know anybody and it seems weird to be like 'hey, superbunch, let's celebrate this old dude you don't know."

Jane snorted.

"Darcy, I think that's a bit melodramatic. Besides, Tony never turns down the opportunity to party. Thor will probably think it a 'most wonderous occasion' and everyone else will tag along because they don't have anything better to do anyway."

"Guess you have a point."

Jane squeezed her hand and turned to go back to her work. Darcy asked her if she needed anything and Jane shook her head. Before she left, Darcy still threw a pop tart in the toaster and popcorn in the microwave for the physicist to grab when she came up for air.

* * *

By the time Darcy made it back to her apartment that day, the sun was beginning to set on the skyline. What she hadn't been anticipating was for Pops to pull another disappearing act so soon.

"Jarvis?"

"Miss Lewis."

"Do you know where my Pops went?"

"Mr. Lewis is currently in the communal living area."

"Thanks J."

When she entered the communal area, it was to a chorus of voices coming from the kitchen.

Seated around the kitchen table were Thor, Steve, Bucky and Sam. All of whom were facing away from her. And even though she couldn't see him behind the sheer mass of muscle that surrounded him, Pops' voice stood out from them all.

"Bah. No, no. The bread down on 7th was no good. Bergstein down on 56th and U St. Now he had the good stuff." He slammed his hand emphatically on the table to punctuate the statement over the sound of Bucky's scoff.

"Get outta here, Lewis. Murray's place on 7th always had the best soda bread," Bucky retorted.

"Soda bread?" Arthur's voice sounded mildly appalled, but his smile was warm. "Why waste your time with soda bread. Bergstein always gave the quiet kids an extra loaf of challah for the holidays."

"Well there's your problem, Buck." Steve cracked. "You ain't ever been quiet a day in your life."

"Yeah it ain't got nothin to do with my being Catholic at all." He rolled his eyes, but smirked.

"Eh. You're young." Arthur said to Bucky then. Waving off the pair of supersoldiers when they pointed out they were born years before he was. "Yes, yes of course. But you have so much time left to live. You've got time. Time enough to become nice Jewish boys so one of you can marry my Darcy-Lou."

Darcy jumped at shift in the conversation, stepping fully into the room with a twitching eye.

"Pops!"

They all turned to look at her as she strode over to where they sat. Steve offered her his chair before moving around the table to take a harder to reach one.

"You can't go trying to marry me off as a conversion tactic!" She plopped down into the seat and gave the old man the stink eye.

He waved her comments off nonchalantly.

"You're the best girl any of these young fools are gonna set their eyes on. And besides, all Catholics are already Jewish at heart! They might as well embrace their roots!"

Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly.

"There is so much in that statement that I wish I could unpack with you—"

But she was cut off by Barnes making another smart-ass comment, she held up her hand to shush him before continuing.

"And more importantly, Pops. You're an atheist!"

"Eh. So what? I'm a Jewish Atheist."

"What does it matter if they're Catholic or Jewish before they marry me." She raised her eyebrow before catchy the shit eating grin on Barnes's face, she turned to glare at him. "Which is not on the table, by the way."

"Well Darcy, these are your roots!" Arthur waved his hands dramatically. "You need a man who understands them! Tell me who will light the candles on Hanukkah if you marry a Catholic?"

"I'm not marrying a Catholic!" She yelled trying to hold back the laughter bubbling in her chest. "I'm not getting married at all! And what candles Pops? No one in the family even owns a menorah!"

"But you might buy one someday," he said with a glint in his eye. "What if I buy you a menorah. Would you not light the menorah your great grandfather gave to you?"

If there was any question about where Darcy got her affinity for hyperbole, Arthur's arrival at the tower cleared it up real quick.

"Pops you don't own a menorah. You're probably not even gonna buy one because as I mentioned before – you're a goddamn atheist!" She shrieked in a loving way, a way that spoke of the comforts of family…

"Yes, yes. I am an atheist!" He growled out with a roll of his eyes. "But I became an atheist in the 70's. I was going through a phase. Before that though Darcy-Lou, before that I was a Jew. And back when I was young, we lived in the neighborhood, in the Jewish part of Brooklyn. We didn't mix much back in those days with the likes of those Micks over there." He winked and nodded at Bucky and Steve who both nodded along in an off mixture of fondness and solemnity.

Darcy just brought her face down to her palm and groaned, muttering exasperatedly into her hand that their Jewish family had celebrated Christmas since before she was born. That they went to go to the tree farm and hung stockings over the fireplace, and they never celebrated Hanukkah because it meant they had to see each other more often… which was just too much to fathom at the end of the day.

She didn't bother look up when Thor clapped a reassuring hand on her back and rubbed between her shoulder blades comfortingly. She knew the big oaf was thoroughly enjoying getting to know a member of her family. The conversation continued on around her.

* * *

The next morning found Darcy in her gym clothes, tying her hair up in a knot and lacing her shoes. Arthur emerged from the guest bedroom fully dressed and ready for the day.

"Gotta head down to the gym for training with Clint for a few hours," She told him distractedly as she filled her water bottle.

He watched her from where he leaned on her counter.

"Training? What are you training for?"

"It's just basic self-defense," She shrugged.

"You know how to use a gun properly, yet?" He asked. "They train you in that?"

Darcy blushed and side eyed him.

"Uh yeah…yep. Been to the range once or twice."

"Only once or twice?" He huffed. "They've got you out here living with superheroes, getting attacked by who knows what and they don't teach you to use a gun?"

"Well, you know.. I don't even believe in guns all that much Pops." Darcy gave him a teasing smile. "Besides I'm more of a taser girl, really. Ask Thor about it. He enjoys telling the story more than I do."

"I want to come to your training today." He had an odd look in his eye, but she chose not to comment. Telling herself there wasn't much more the old guy could have up his sleeve anyway.

She was only twenty minutes into her warmup when Darcy decided that Arthur Lewis and Steve Rogers were far too chummy for their own good. And they needed to stop glancing over at her while she was on the treadmill. She was getting paranoid.

An hour later, she looked more beat up than the punching bag Clint had stationed her at.

Another fifteen minutes, and she decided that Clint joining in on Steve and Arthur's little buddy fest was gonna be the death of her. God, she wished she could read lips, but every time she even tried Clint's laser focus was back on her with a glare that told her any more distracted looks would get her an extra hour on the treadmill.

Another twenty minutes of punching and kicking that stupid bag before Clint sauntered over to her and held it steady.

"Time's up, kid."

She glanced at the clock on the wall.

"We've got another hour…" He quirked his lips and she wondered if she should be scared.

"Yeah well we're taking a bit of a field trip." He jerked his head back in Arthur and Steve's direction before hefting her gym bag over his shoulder.

"And where might I ask, are we all heading?" She was trying to keep her stomach from dropping prematurely.

"Subsection 7." And there went her stomach.

"Oh no. Clint. No." She started and he sighed before gently grabbing her elbow and shooting her a pitying look.

"There was a consensus," She said. "No guns for Darcy. Darcy and guns are a huge no no. Did you hit your head on your last mission? I can call Sam and he'll remind you."

"Look Darce."

"Don't 'look, Darce' me, Clint."

"Arthur made some valid points about why you should at least have a basic understanding of guns."

"But—"

"And it's not like that wasn't the initial purpose of our last visit to the range…"

Darcy didn't bother to coherently comment, choosing instead to grumble at him while she grabbed a drink of water.

"It would have eventually been revisited when you had a little more training under your belt. Anyway, you have become significantly less clumsy since then."

"Still a klutz, Clint. I'm gonna end up tripping and blowing off someone's kneecaps. Or worse!"

"We'll take baby steps." He slung his arm over her shoulders comfortingly as they followed Steve and Arthur to the elevator that would take her to subsection 7.

"This is a stupid idea, Clint."

"No kid, it's not, we just gotta work on your headspace a little bit. None of this training is gonna mean much at all to you unless you believe it worked."

She didn't bother responding to that, just leaned her head against the wall while they waited for the doors to open on their floor.

When they entered the actual range portion of Subsection 7, Darcy was dismayed to realize it was during prime training hours. Several security team members took up the stalls by entrance, the noise from the guns themselves was only mildly muted by the bulky weight of the hearing protection Clint had shoved on her head. He kept a steady hand on her back as he led her to the far side of the range where one man stood apart from everyone else.

She was grateful for how empty everything was on his end.

"Called Barnes in to help," Clint had told her before they went in.

He had also asked Arthur and Steve to stay behind while he worked with her. They didn't put up a fuss, but Darcy had a feeling they were watching her through the two-way mirror that faced the targets. Still…if she tried hard enough, she could pretend that they weren't there to witness another colossal failure.

Barnes stopped shooting as they approached and turned to face them with a warm look in his eyes. No smile in public…he didn't want to security team getting any ideas that he was a nice person or anything.

Darcy rolled her eyes at the thought but smiled nervously back at him.

"Ready, doll?"

She looked between him and Clint, literally the two best marksmen in recorded world history, and worried her lip.

"Is now a good time to revisit the fact that this is a horrible idea?"

The two men shared a look.

"It's just a gun, doll."

"Easy for you to say, sniper-dude…"

He conceded a bit to that, but he still held a small gun up for her to see. It was definitely not like the one he had been shooting earlier, she was relieved to note.

"You're not gonna shoot with any ammo today," Clint told her while Bucky slowly disassembled and reassembled the gun to show her that it wasn't loaded.

"So why are we here?" Darcy scrunched her nose in confusion.

"Largely," Bucky said before pausing to quirk his head to the side like he was listening to something before snapping his attention back to her. "Largely, so that you'll get comfortable being in this environment."

"Your problem isn't that you're bad with guns," Clint continued. "Your problem is that you're too worried about everything else, it makes you tense and fidgety which then translates to incidents like last time."

"When you're comfortable," Bucky said as he brought her to stand in front of his stall so she could face the target he was shooting at. "You're confident. And when you're confident, you can do that."

He pointed at the holes he'd made in the target. A smiley face made from bullets stared back at her. She looked back at Bucky and Clint who were both looking mighty proud of themselves and promptly burst out into laughter.

"That is the creepiest smiley face I have ever seen."

Their faces dropped into scowls, but she couldn't stop laughing, clutching her abdomen to relieve the ache that was starting there.

"Did you guys rehearse that together?" She smirked and wiped a stay tear.

"No," Clint grumbled, not looking at her. Bucky on the other hand just shot her a wink before telling her to focus and turning her to face the target once more.

They spent the next hour teaching her about the type of gun they'd given her to use. They told her why they chose it for her in comparison to others in their arsenal. They taught her how to hold it, how to handle it properly inside and outside of the range, had her point it at the smiley-murder-face and pull the trigger a couple times but not too many because it still made her uncomfortable and they could tell. All in all, subsection 7 may still have given her the creeps and made her feel totally out of her league, but it had gone a lot better than she had anticipated.

* * *

Steve and Arthur were sitting on a couple of pub chairs behind the two-way mirror of subsection 7, watching Darcy nervously handle the gun Bucky had handed her while Clint rattled off instructions from her other side.

"You know…" Arthur began, not taking his eyes off his great granddaughter. "That little girl used to be fearless."

Steve turned to look at him but didn't say anything.

"Anything Darcy set her mind to was within her reach. No tree branch was too high, no challenge was too daunting. She grew up with a bunch of rowdy boy cousins and she developed a thick skin to back it up."

He coughed and scratched his chin. Watched as Darcy got too nervous holding the gun choosing instead to hand it over to Clint.

"She was always this happy, tough little thing. And I never, ever thought it would be her that kept me up at night in my old age."

"Arthur I—"

"No, let me finish." The elder Lewis suddenly sounded so tired. "I haven't gotten to my point yet."

His eyes were fierce when they locked on Steve's.

"I served in Italy."

Steve's eyes widened for a second, searched Arthur for some familiar feature but Arthur waved him off.

"We never met. I was a kid then. Barely 19 and in over my head. Pissed myself in fear and shame a few times. But I never cried in front of anyone because I was a man. Least that's what I told myself."

Steve nodded, having known the feeling intimately.

"Our war was supposed to be it." Arthur laughed a derisive little laugh. "You remember that?"

Steve snorted. "I do."

"The war to end all wars," Arthur shook his head. "My memory is in and out some days, but I remember the blood and shit and snow just fine. I remember tellin myself all the reasons I was out there fighting. Wasn't until later I could recognize just how little control I had over my own fate or the fate of my family."

Darcy was holding the gun again; Bucky was kicking her feet into the appropriate stance and Clint was pointing at the target and talking to her about something they couldn't see.

"I had seen things that no one back home could ever see. And when I came home, a lot of people didn't understand. Oh, they thought they did – thought they could read my thoughts and motives, understand the chaos in my mind." He looked back to Steve. "But they couldn't. And it drove a wedge."

Steve nodded. He understood the feeling well.

"It was different back then. Harder to separate, harder to put that distance between yourself and your loved ones. Hell at least for me they held me in a higher regard. I was a soldier. I'd made sacrifices, and they respected that I'd changed because of it"

Arthur sighed.

"Darcy doesn't get that respect though…not really. I don't even know what she's been through—" he gestured to Steve, to Captain America, and laughed to himself. "I can only imagine what with the company she keeps. I don't know what she has done or seen, but I know she's done it. I know she's seen it." He whispered with a deep conviction and stared into middle distance speaking with a tinge of remembrance.

"When I do see her, and it's not often anymore, I am reminded of myself in those days. Back in the Alps…when I was trekking through the snow and my own piss, trying to convince myself that I was a man."

Arthur cleared his throat and quieted.

Steve sighed and rubbed his face with both hands before turning his attention back to Darcy who had cracked some stupid joke from the look of Bucky's bemused face.

"I understand." Steve said after a beat.

Arthur just looked at him, expression unreadable.

"It's her privacy. So I don't know how much to say or not…" Steve leaned forward. "She has nightmares. I don't know of what specifically or how often. I have a few ideas but they're just educated guesses more than anything else. She's sad, I think, more often than not. And I worry that what little I have to offer won't be enough by ways of ending that sadness."

"You love her," Arthur stated.

"She's family." Steve said. "I don't know if I have the right to call her that, but it's how I feel. She is one of the most genuine people I've known in this century and the last. I can't imagine my world without her in it."

Steve pretended not to notice when Arthur's eyes misted.

"You'll be there for her," Arthur said with an air of certainty. More to himself than to Rogers. "When I can't be there anymore, you'll be in her corner."

"I will."

* * *

The rest of Arthur's visit passed in a blur. After they had finished her training for the day, Darcy had given him a proper tour of the tower. Introduced him to Jane, Bruce and Tony all of whom he had yet to meet.

They played card games in the kitchen, and he regaled everyone with tales of Darcy's rebellious childhood. Indignant, Darcy sassed him through it all. She smiled more than she had in a while and if anyone noticed they didn't say.

On the day of his birthday, Darcy baked him his favorite champagne cake with strawberries, and gifted him with a party hat that he insisted on wearing for the rest of the day. That night, the residents of the tower gathered for food and drinks. Ecstatic, Thor took the opportunity to bless the day for it was a joyous one spent among beloved friends and family. Arthur gave Darcy a look when Thor had finished and asked her if this was the reason her Aunt Caroline had kicked up a fuss about Darcy become a pagan. The Cheshire grin he got in return was all he needed to know.

Arthur fell head over heels in love with Natasha, and Natasha was plenty charmed by great grandpa Lewis as well. A well-placed kiss on the cheek left the red imprint of her lips on his face for the duration of the night. He refused to scrub it off, just like he refused to remove his party hat.

Finally, after hours of partying it up with the world's mightiest heroes the man admitted defeat, blamed his old age, and headed off to bed. His best great grandgirl was on his arm at the end of the night.

* * *

He had refused Tony's offer of the quinjet as means of transportation back home citing his love for trains and a need for more time away from the family. The quinjet would make too good of time. He wanted to savor the freedom of his travels before returning to the recliner for the foreseeable future.

Darcy stood with him in Grand Central Station as they waited for his train to arrive.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Darcy worried her lip and glanced at him.

He patted her arm reassuringly.

"Oh no, this old man can take care of himself just fine," he insisted.

"I'm really glad you came up here, Pops." Her voice was tight. Darcy sniffed and crossed her arms. "I miss you a lot you know…I'm really sorry I haven't been home in a while."

"Darcy," Arthur spoke softly. "Darcy, look at me."

He framed her face with his hands and gently tugged her down until their foreheads bumped together. She closed her eyes, but Arthur studied her with his own sharp brown eyes a mix of grief and limitless affection.

"Look at me, young lady," His voice was stern, but he smiled when she complied.

"You are lovely. You are loveable. And you are loved."

A few tears leaked out of her eyes, but she kept them open, nonetheless.

"You always know where to find me, I will always listen," He said.

He wiped a few tears with his thumbs as they fell down faster now.

"One day, be it tomorrow or a month or a year from now, you are going to remember how truly remarkable you are. And when that day comes, I want you to remember that I told you so."

She snorted at his cheeky grin. Then they hugged each other tight and she kissed him on the cheek.

When his train came, she watched him board with a nervous flutter in her stomach and an ache in her chest that felt distinctly sick for home.

And when his train was gone, she left the station and wandered the city until the sun fell below the horizon. Then she meandered back to the tower, she was greeted warmly by Jarvis when she entered the elevator and was met by a fidgety, worried Jane outside her apartment door.

"Oh! Thank God, Darcy!" Jane said, surging forward to wrap her little pixie arms around her best friend.

Darcy laughed for a confused second before pulling back to give Jane her best 'what the fuck' look.

"You've been gone for hours. I worried." Jane mumbled. "Jarvis said you were fine, should've trusted him. Though now that I think about it…he is most definitely surveilling your cell phone now…" Jane looked suspiciously up at the ceiling, but Jarvis remained deceptively silent.

"What's up, Janie." Darcy said, deciding to deal with the overstepping A.I. at a different time.

"This." Jane held out a small box and an envelope.

"This?" Darcy accepted it with a scrunched brow.

"It's a gift…from Pops." Jane said. "He made me promise to wait until he left to give it to you."

"What is it?"

Jane shrugged but nodded for her to open it. Darcy, ever the nonconformist, went for the box before the envelope. Peeling the lid off, Darcy was taken aback to find a faded metal chain wrapped in tissue paper. Pulling the chain out of the box completely, her heart caught in her throat at the sight of a pair of discolored dog tags with Arthur Lewis's name. She slipped the chain over her head and tucked the tags into her shirt before tearing open the envelope, unfolding a letter.

_To My Best Great Grandgirl,_

_If your friend Jane is worth her salt, she will have waited until I left before giving you this letter. I have to admit, I'm a bit out of practice, but for you I'd never put down my pen._

_I have so much I wish to say to you. So much I wish I could have prepared you for, but time is a funny thing. And where I feel sometimes that I've lived a hundred lifetimes, when I look at you it's as though I blinked and suddenly, you're grown! How that happened, I have no idea!_

_I've entrusted my dog tags to you, sweet girl. They carried me through some of the most trying times in my life – seen me through it all. I hope that now they will carry you through just as well. That, by some extension, I will be there to fight every battle alongside you – in spirit I would keep you safe. _

_Nearly eighty years ago, a letter from someone I loved was the only way to combat the darkness I'd seen, the only thing to help me cope with the horrors of the world. I don't know what those pretty blue eyes have seen, Darcy-Lou, but I know that you've seen the darkness I speak of. _

_Just remember, my girl, that after almost a hundred years of life, for every bit of darkness I have encountered there has been twice as much light. _

_Love you always,_

_Pops_

_p.s. Write me, young lady. It's a dying art. _


	8. Hulk, Buddy?

**Thank you so much for the feedback on that last chapter!  
****I kind of have a love/hate relationship with this one. Not sure how I feel about it. Tell me what you think :)**

**And if anyone has suggestions for chapter ideas down the line, I am always open to suggestions. Leave a comment or PM me.**

* * *

Hulk…Buddy?

The team had been away for the last four days. What they were doing and how long they'd be doing it was well above Darcy's pay grade. She tried not to let that bother her, but it still set her teeth on edge and sent a petty jolt through her chest whenever she allowed herself to dwell on it. The childish part of her warred with her grown self as she fluctuated between resentment and respect for the fact that, sometimes, the people she was closest to intentionally kept her in the dark.

Thor and Jane were off visiting Selvig at his family home in Norway. They'd extended an invitation to Darcy, of course, but she made her excuses. She wasn't in the right headspace to spend a week being the third wheel while Erik walked around without pants on.

Bruce was around. And he wouldn't be opposed to her company if she offered it. But she thought the man deserved a much-needed break from other people. It wasn't often that the entire team got called out without him going in. Whether it was to contribute his scientific expertise or to lend a big green muscly hand, Bruce rarely got left behind when the Avengers assembled. It was rare indeed. Darcy didn't want ttpo be a nuisance.

And to be fair, during the workdays that had passed, she'd been too busy to really notice the others' absence. She and Bruce interacted during small break intervals before heading off in opposite directions.  
Other than that Darcy didn't really have the time for anybody else. In the absence of two of her science triplets, the labs were left almost entirely under Darcy's supervision. The lab monkeys actually got to do science for once without being micromanaged and sent away. Well, in Jane's lab at least. Tony's was a strict no fly zone. No baby scientist jam hands around his stuff. His words, not Darcy's.

So, while the lab techs spent the week maintaining the science side of Jane's smaller projects, Darcy organized their schedules; fielded complaints and phone calls; collected their notes and entered data into Jane's computer.  
When she finished with all of that each evening, Darcy made her way to Tony's lab so she could check on DUM-E and U – wanting to make sure they got at least some human interaction before they went into sleep mode for the night. Her final moments of each workday were spent debriefing with Jarvis, talking about the progress he'd made on anything Tony had left cooking while away, and running down the security procedures that Tony typically went through with J when he was home. They got it all out of the way before she left Tony's space.

Darcy and Jarvis had decided early in their bromance that they would never talk shop outside of the lab levels unless there was an emergency that required it. They pinkie swore on it, so it was pretty unbreakable. Both had been subjected to science rants and breakthroughs at ungodly hours in all kinds of places when they thought their work for the day was done. Both refused to perpetuate the madness if they could help it. Besides, for as good as Jarvis was at science and assisting Tony in all that technical mumbo jumbo, he had confided in Darcy some time ago that his real passion lied in the arts. More specifically, in ceramics.

He'd told this to Darcy in confidence, too nervous to tell Tony. Afraid that his creator would be disappointed or critical of his interests. Darcy begged to differ but promised not to tell. They were working through his feelings on the matter; she was confident that she could get him to open up to Stark and that it wouldn't backfire in the slightest. Jarvis remained doubtful.

* * *

It was as she was heading back to her apartment, in the elevator ascending from the labs to her floor, that Jarvis spoke again, his speech stilted and robotic.

The elevator halted jarringly, knocking Darcy off balance and into the handrail.

At first he was frantic, telling her that his firewalls had been breached, rambled nervously at her about intruders. Then as if a switch had been flipped, he played like an automated message.

"Evacuate the elevator immediately."

"Jarvis? What are you—" She let out a startled yelp as the A.I. threw open the elevator doors. He had stopped the elevator just below the communal living area, a small window of space available for her to climb up and crawl through.

"Evacuate the elevator immediately."

She eyed the doors nervously, wondering how long he'd be able to hold the doors before his system shut down completely. She tried not to think about the doors slamming closed on her body if Jarvis went away before she could pull herself out.

"Alright, man, I trust you…" She said more to convince herself than him. She hopped up to catch the floor where it floated above her head, and thanked Clint profusely for forcing her to work on her upper body strength. A month ago, she would not have been able to hoist herself up and through the gap Jarvis had provided.

"Ok J-man," her voice was high pitched in her ears, and she could feel her heart thudding in her face and hands. "What—"

"Evacuate—" His voice faded and cut off. The warm light fixtures he'd kept on in the living area went dark – pitch black – before the emergency lights flashed in the ceiling and lined the floors tinting the room in a cold blue glow.

"Jarvis?" Nothing. "J?"

Darcy took a shaky breath and tried to gather her bearings. Ran a trembling hand through her hair, before tying it up in a high ponytail. She moved further into the room, hugging the wall as she did, heading for the third floor panel to the right of the fridge. Natasha's voice was calm in her head as Darcy pressed her palm into the panel waiting for it to release.

"_This is only for you, Darcy." Natasha had said to her. "I've hidden others as well. You'll commit them to memory."_

_Darcy watched as Natasha crouched down by the fridge and applied pressure to one of the panels of flooring. There was a barely there pop, and then Natasha removed the panel to show a small backpack hidden underneath. _

_Darcy moved closer with wide eyes and a wider grin. _

"_That's so cool!"_

_Natasha pursed her lips and gave her a lighthearted glare._

"_Just remember, it's for emergencies." She brought the bag over to the counter, gesturing for Darcy to take a look. _

"_It's not to use when you want to mess with Clint or Barnes because they're being children. After today, I want you to commit each stash to memory and then never acknowledge them again. Not until you need them, understand?"_

_She held Darcy's gaze for a moment, and the younger girl nodded seriously. _

"_I understand."_

Darcy felt the floor panel pop, and quickly pulled it up. She snatched the bag from inside and replaced the panel as quietly as she could.

Still crouched on the floor, hidden only by the kitchen island, Darcy unzipped the bag and pulled out the items Natasha had selected for her.

First, taking out an old flip phone, she dialed the number Natasha had drilled into her head and held it to her ear. She knew no one would answer, but she let it ring three times as instructed before sending off a blank text. Then she shut the phone back down and shoved it into the bottom of the bag. Grateful she wore her black converse in the labs that day, Darcy hastily shoved the tiny lock pick into the bottom of her right shoe, and a small retractable utility knife in her left. Her toes felt a little odd sharing the space, but she ignored it. She strapped two modified widow's bite bands to each wrist before rezipping the bag and throwing it over her shoulders.

Her heart was in her throat when she entered the stairwell, not sure what or who she might encounter in the building. She had to get to Bruce. Safety was with Bruce.

First though, she needed to find her baby. With as much stealth and speed that she could muster, Darcy made her way down one level to her floor, thanking Stark profusely for making her floor so centrally located.

She darted to her apartment, stopping short when the door gave way. Already unlocked. Her body alight and buzzing with adrenaline, stood frozen and separate from her running mind. Darcy momentarily short circuited as she processed her conflicting urges – one to run, the other to find her kitten.

She crept forward slowly. Eyes blown wide in the darkness, trying to see. Her breathing was loud to her own ears. Conspicuous. A figure moved around the corner. Silhouetted, a man paced frantically in front of her couch before stopping and turning slowly toward her.

She flung her hand up to activate the widow's bites on her right wrist.

"Darcy?"

She stopped short, looking back at the frazzled man.

"Bruce!"

Surging forward, Darcy launched her arms around him in complete relief.

"Thank god. We gotta get out of here, kid."

"I know. I know. I just need to find Fury."

"I've got him."

She looked at Bruce then as he shifted a backpack off his shoulder and unzipped the mesh lining at the top, watched as a little orange face popped nervously through the hole.

She nodded, ignoring the sting of relieved tears that lined her eyes, and watched as he zipped the mesh back up. Grabbing her elbow gently, Bruce took the lead as they exited the apartment.

"We need to get up to the penthouse," he murmured, head on a constant swivel.

In the flashing emergency lights, she could see his eyes shot green. Thick angry veins bulged in his neck as he fought the urge to transform.

"We'll be okay, Bruce," Darcy said to him softly as they darted up the stairs. "We're gonna be okay. I sent a message to Romanov when it all started. It's gonna be okay."

She didn't really know if she was comforting him or herself at that point, but the gentle squeeze he gave her hand helped to center her focus and quiet her down.

There was a loud bang and a flash of light some floors below that shocked Darcy out of movement. But Bruce didn't let her stop for long, tugging her forcefully upward despite the beams of flashlights and the thud of boots heading their way.

He began to huff then, like a bull preparing to charge. His hands trembled as he shook his head. She could see the conflict that was happening within. Could only imagine the argument that was taking place between the two beings that inhabited his mind.

It was 80 percent repressed Hulk strength that got them up the last three flights of stairs, Darcy could hear the footsteps gaining on them anyway. Bruce busted open Tony's fire door, slammed it shut and broke off the handle. Hoping to buy them a little time.

He dragged Darcy to Pepper's office. Thanking god that the other woman was upstate for the weekend; he slammed the door behind them before releasing the younger girl's arm.

The rage was harder to stave off then. He muttered to himself, half out of his mind, begging Hulk to let him have control. Hulk seemed to have other ideas. Growling and huffing as he warred with his weaker self.

"What do we do now? What now?" Darcy was frantically asking, grabbing at the man who had crouched down on the floor.

"Bruce," she hissed. "You obviously had this planned out. What is the next step?"

He tried to speak, but the Hulk had taken his voice and Hulk was angry. Didn't want to talk. Wanted to fight. Wanted to smash all the puny humans that were chasing him and the little girl.

"Hey," she snapped and smacked him across the face, watching as her red hand print faded to a light shade of green. "I don't really give a fuck what you want, Hulk. I need to talk to Bruce. Right now."

He recoiled slightly. Looked up at her with one brown eye and one green.

"Behind the Iron Man poster on the wall," Bruce gritted his teeth. "There's a lever and a keypad. Pull the lever and type the word RESCUE into the pad."

Darcy jumped up to do as he instructed.

"It'll drop the panic doors. Nobody in or out until Tony arrives and Jarvis is back up and running."

Voices sounded in the hallway leading to the office they'd sequestered themselves in.

Just as he said, reinforced steel doors slammed down around them and the sounds of the approaching men disappeared. She turned back to the warring man, biting her lip nervously.

"So now we wait…" She said quietly to herself as he clutched at his head and argued with himself, occasionally losing his voice to the Hulk who loudly protested his course of action. Who vocally wanted Bruce to let him out.

Darcy stepped toward him and Bruce snapped his feral gaze up at her.

"What can I do?" She asked him softly. "What can I do to help you?"

He laughed a deep, manic laugh, and flinched away as she came closer.

"Stop." He held up his hand and she halted mid step.

"Stay as far away as you can. If he wins, you could be crushed."

"I don't believe that," Darcy argued gently. "I don't think either of you would hurt me."

He scoffed.

"Not intentionally," His face contorted, bulging a little greener than before. "He likes you, but neither of us have control when we change. You'd be crushed before he was even aware he had the wheel, kid." He said with bared teeth. Hulk's face stretched out of him then, eyes angry and his voice loud when he shouted.

"GO!"

Darcy jumped and stumbled backward, snatching the backpack that Fury was in as she pushed her body up against the corner farthest from him. She slid down to the floor and pulled her knees up to her chest, sticking one hand in the bag to comfort the little orange tabby. She didn't even flinch when the cat panicked and embedded his nails deep into the skin of her hand, content to let him hold on.

So enthralled by the disturbing sight in front of her, Darcy failed to notice at first the steady and consistent thud coming from the steel barred entrance to the office. Didn't hear the high-pitched whir of an explosive charge until it flashed off and sent pieces of steel flying in every direction. She didn't hear it. But the Hulk had.

She'd barely had time to process the explosion, let alone take cover, when the great green behemoth won the war with himself and charged in her direction. Cradling her and Fury to his chest with thick trembling arms. The roar that erupted out of him had to have shaken the city. Darcy could just imagine the pedestrians below, stopping and looking up at the tower, searching for whatever had triggered their most volatile hero and scattering even though there was no danger to be seen.

In the settling dust of the explosion, men poured into the office in various forms of shock trying to maintain their professionalism and achieve whatever they had set out to achieve when they infiltrated Avenger's Tower. They obviously hadn't expecting the Hulk to have stayed behind when the rest of the team was called away.

In a small fit of petulant rage, Hulk punched at the wall behind Darcy. His fist went through the structure of steel, concrete, reinforced glass as though it was little more than paper. Wind whipped inward, funneling through the hole in the wall and knocking Darcy off kilter in an act of sheer force. Instead of a whistle, it flooded the room in a scream.

She watched as the Hulk turned to face their assailants with a nasty, boyish grin. Some ran. Others stupidly stayed to fight. Darcy tried to stay out of the way, nerves prickling at the thought of the hole in the wall behind her. There was really nowhere for her to go. She dug the burner phone out of the bag Natasha had given her, threw it in Fury's bag and hoisted him onto her back. She tried only once to get to the door but more men appeared, and a giant green fist landed in front of her. She backed up again toward her corner, eyes locked on the danger before her. Flailed her arms frantically when her shoelace caught on a piece of shrapnel from the explosion and stumbled backwards. Right out of the space where the wall had once been.

She would have screamed if she wasn't choking on the terror lodged at the base of her throat. She reached up in vain for something to grab at but fell too fast. Still, her hands stayed reaching above her as the hole in the wall grew further and further away.

It was like an out of body experience. Darcy knew she was falling to her death, but it was as though she'd left her brain and her stomach somewhere in the air above her. The wind was a sadistic screech in her ears as she kept her eyes locked on the place she'd been standing only seconds ago.

Then she remembered Fury. Her little orange fur baby who was too young to die so suddenly and violently. Resigned to her fate, Darcy still twisted as though she could somehow save him. Desperate, she turned in the air, to spare him even if she couldn't save herself. It was as she twisted and contorted, that Darcy's body hit something that was decidedly not the ground.

She bounced once on impact. Briefly recalled the old trampoline she had in her backyard growing up. Then she laid there. Dazed. Heart pounding. Breath erratic. Her hands were clenched in disbelieving little fists. Thrumming with near death energy, Darcy uncurled her hands and slid them across the surface beneath her. Trying to figure out what she had landed on, but too disturbed to look around. It felt like vinyl, and Darcy nervously waited for whatever was holding her to give under her weight, held her breath for the sound of a tearing fabric or the groan of support beams.

Nothing.

Nothing but the wind and the sounds of the city below.

Fury mewled frantically behind her. She had landed on her side. Darcy, startled by the sound, sat up slightly. Pulling the backpack off, she peaked in at the traumatized kitten to make sure he wasn't hurt. Heart aching as his little paws swiped frantically at her and the fabric of the bag. She hushed him desperately, before finally facing her surroundings.

Though she felt the thing that caught her – durable fabric below her fingertips – and knew obviously that something was holding her up some 90 stories above the ground, Darcy was completely unprepared to look down and see nothing but air below her.

She cried out then, deep gut-wrenching wails, and curled in on herself. Darcy clenched her eyes shut and tried to forget the fall. Tried to forget the thousand-foot distance between her and the ground. Keened and clawed at her hair as she tried desperately to suck air into her lungs.

Somewhere inside, the Hulk was running a rampage against whoever had infiltrated the Tower. Who they were or how many there were was a mystery – a mystery that she no longer cared about. Her chest clenched painfully, and her left arm lost all feeling as she floated there above the ground.

Dying. She was dying.

Somewhere inside the Hulk roared again. And Darcy was dying.

In the bag she held tight to her body, Fury cried at her for attention. He cried and scratched and mewled at her for help. To spare him her fate. The cold metal of Pops' dog tags weighed gently against her chest and she reached one hand up to twist it. Ran her thumb over the indent of his name. And tried desperately to control her breathing.

Darcy wiped at the tears blurring her vision. Pretty sure she was having a heart attack, Darcy told herself dying would just have to wait until later. She couldn't leave Fury up in the air all by himself. Scared with no one to help him. So, she pulled herself up on all fours and did everything she could not to look down.

They couldn't die there. Not like that. Not after falling out of a hole in the wall that the Hulk had created. Bruce would never recover from the guilt. Never stop hating himself for the Hulk's role in it, even if all he had done was try to save her.

Darcy shook her head at herself, choked back a sob.

"We're okay," She said to Fury, her voice tight. "We're okay. Right, little guy?"

Darcy put the backpack on her back once more, cautiously sliding her hands across the invisible vinyl surface before inching forward slowly. If she kept moving in this direction, she believed she would end up directly above the Avenger's emblem which held the entrance to the chamber that housed the Iron Legion.

She crawled. Didn't look down. Crawled some more. Caught a glimpse of the drop below her. Sobbed hysterically. Then she crawled some more.

After what felt like an eternity, Darcy found herself directly below the quinjet's landing pad and above the giant 'A.' She looked above and below her, completely dismayed. From afar the Avenger's logo had always seemed so close to the landing pad. Nothing more than a few feet between them it seemed from the street. Now, however, Darcy could see that both were about twenty feet in either direction from where she was stranded. Biting back a desperate scream, she settled herself between them content that at least when she looked down, she'd see a giant ledge made of metal and concrete instead of a thousand foot drop to her death.

She let herself breath then. Reached into the backpack, grabbed the burner phone she'd dropped inside and turned it back on.

There was one blank text in her inbox. She flipped it closed, clutching the device tightly in sweaty hands. Warred with herself briefly, before flipping it open once more and dialing the number Natasha gave her.

On the fourth ring, it picked up.

"Darcy, always hang up after three rings," Natasha's smooth voice came through the speaker.

Darcy didn't say anything, just sucked in a breath.

"Darcy…?

She opened her mouth, but still no words.

"Whoever this is," Natasha's voice was void of emotion. "It would be in your best interest to leave her alone."

"Nat," Darcy croaked. "It's me."

There was a pause.

"Darcy? Are you alone? Have you been harmed?"

There was a gaggle of voices in the background, and the starting whir of an engine.

Darcy stuttered.

"I don't know what to do."

"Talk to me," She coaxed her calmly. "Tell me what's going on. Stark can't contact Jarvis and none of us can get ahold of Banner."

"Jarvis is gone…" There was silence on the other end.

"What do you mean, gone?" Tony's voice rocked through the phone. Natasha must have put her on speaker.

"I don't know," Darcy exhaled slowly. "He started telling me to evacuate, then he disappeared. The power went out and the emergency lights came on." She twisted her shirt in her hands. "He's just gone."

He went to say something more, but Natasha interjected.

"Were you able to clear the building, Darcy? Have you been hurt?"

Darcy couldn't help it then, fought the bubble that filled her chest and failed.

Back on the quinjet, the team looked at each other completely bewildered as the tinny sound of her laughter filled the air.

Darcy felt manic as she shook, her shoulders hunched inward, face aching from smiling as tears leaked from her eyes. She looked back at the invisible path she'd crawled to get to the Iron Legion she couldn't reach.

"Oh, I evacuated alright." She cackled, holding tight to the bag that held the still disgruntled kitten.

She was met with silence on the other land.

Cap's voice floated through then.

"And Banner?" he asked seriously. "Did he leave with you?"

She snorted and slapped her hand over her mouth. Choking back another wave of hysteria.

"Oh yeah, Cap. Banner definitely left the building." The giggles rolled through her body again as the adrenaline drained a little more. All that was left was the shock and absurdity of it all.

"Hey!" Natasha snapped over the phone, successfully calling Darcy's attention back to her. "Stop laughing."

Darcy's face stung with the verbal slap Romanov had dealt. She quieted instantly. Realizing suddenly that she was very cold.

"We need to know what we're walking into, Darcy," She said sharply. "That means you don't get to check out."

Darcy bit her tongue and flinched.

"Got it?" Natasha snapped.

Darcy nodded meekly.

"Out loud, Darcy."

"Yeah. Yes. I got it. Sorry." She stuttered.

"Good," Natasha's voice was soft again. "Now, you said you evacuated. Tell us where you are, and we'll send someone to pick you up."

The lump in Darcy's throat expanded and her voice got rounder with a fresh wave of suppressed tears.

"I'm outside the tower."

Clint piped in.

"I thought I told you to run in these situations. You don't know who could be lurk—"

"I can't run, Clint."

"You're injured?" Natasha cut back in.

"Um no. No, I don't think so?" Darcy said hesitantly. "It's just…I'm not exactly on the ground."

Silence. Natasha hissed.

"Where, Darcy?"

Her voice was small when she responded.

"I'm on some kind of invisible net, I think… above the Iron Legion?"

Back on the quinjet, the Avenger's looked dumbly at the phone Natasha held tightly in her hand.

Tony tersely spoke then.

"Lewis," He said slowly. "Are you telling me, you're currently on my safety net…floating 90 stories in the air?"

Over the speaker they heard her suck in a wheezing breath and swallow audibly before she crackled out a yes.

"Tony?" She asked after a beat. "Is there some way I can get back inside from here?"

He clenched his teeth.

"No. Not in your case." He said. "There's an override box near the top of the 'A' but there's no way for you to climb down some twenty feet to get to it. Just sit tight, Kid."

"Where is Bruce, Darcy?" Steve asked once more.

She hesitated.

"The Hulk is handling the intruder situation, I think." She said. "It's been a minute since I've seen him…so I can't be sure. We were in Pepper's office, but they busted the panic doors wide open."

Steve's face was grim when he nodded his understanding, forgetting that she couldn't see him.

"Hold tight," he said then. "We're on our way back from our debrief in D.C. We'll be there soon."

She sniffed.

"Yeah, okay." She said tiredly before snapping her phone shut.

Sat on the net, looking out at the city, Darcy gritted her teeth and growled.

"Not this time, Lewis."

Leaning over to get a better view of the beacon below her, the distance between them left a hole where her stomach used to be, but she scanned the area anyway determined to find some sort of foothold or way to climb down.

She scooted to a small wire line that jutted out between the side of the building and the taught vinyl netting. Reached out to run her fingers over it in contemplation. It was strong, she noted, but thin and easy to manipulate. She pressed her lips together before turning back the way she came. Crawling faster now on all fours until she got far enough away from the 'A' that her cutting wouldn't destabilize the side of the net that she needed.

The wires were all evenly spaced, about a yard apart. She determined that all of them were about a foot in length between the invisible net and the Tower itself. Darcy tugged off her shoe and shook out the retractable utility knife she had stored there.

As she worked the net became looser, with the removal of each wire it had a little more give, but not enough to really destabilize. There must have been another support structure attached to it that she couldn't see. Time seemed to move faster as she sawed at the wires, continually scooting back toward her destination as she gathered them.

Once she'd gathered ten feet or so of wire, she made her way back.

Then she set to work intertwining her materials, tugging at them to test their durability and trying not to think about what would happen if she miscalculated in any way. She couldn't go back the way she came, too afraid of the damage she'd done to the net over there and not really wanting to be floating around in thin air.

Once she had her wires attached in a relatively stable manner, Darcy detached the net from the wire directly above the Iron Legion leaving it connected to the wall of the building. One end of her makeshift wire rope was attached to the wall, the other she wrapped dubiously around her wrist.

Inside the tower, the Hulk was conspicuously silent, and her gut rolled nervously at the implications.

With a deep breath and a shake of her head she sent up a prayer to Heimdall who, if he was watching, was no doubt scolding her from his place in the sky. Then she tightened the straps of her backpack compulsively before sliding through the gap between the net and the building, holding tight to the wire that cut into the skin of her hand. Face red, Darcy winced at the muscles in her arms overextended She silently willed her rope to hold out until she was lower. Darcy clenched her gut and used her feet to recklessly repel twenty feet down to the top of the glowing blue ledge. As predicted the rope brought her about halfway there before it ran out. She could feel it thinning somewhere above her as she dangled in between the two spaces.

"Deep breath, Darcy." She gasped to herself, regretting all her life choices. "You already fell like three stories. What's ten feet?"

The wire rope creaked above her and she felt herself drop a little lower as it began to thin. She snuck a peak down, and suddenly that ledge didn't seem big enough for what she was trying to do. It couldn't have been more than six or seven feet deep.

A small breathless whine escaped her as her eyes locked on her destination, struck with the sudden sensation that it was shrinking. Smaller. Not deep enough for her to land on. Not enough. She was gonna miss. She was gonna go over the edge. There was nowhere for her to land.

Darcy looked back up to where the invisible net was supposed to be and knew she wouldn't be able to climb back up. That her poorly constructed repelling line would never hold up.

Fury howled unhappily behind her, claws scratching at the bag that held him.

Darcy closed her eyes and counted her breath as Sam had taught her. Inhaled and exhaled slowly.

Could hear his voice in her ear as she tried to center herself and collect her courage.

_She looked around herself and saw everything. Uncertainly, she looked back at Sam who decided to help her out a little._

"_How about five things that are blue?"_

She opened her eyes and locked them ten feet below her on the bright beacon of blue light just under her feet. One more deep breath and she let go of the rope just as it snapped and fell away from the tower.

She dropped fast and heavy onto the slab of concrete, stumbled and flailed her arms as her center of gravity shifted and tried to force her backwards. Fury was screeching and yowling on her back, and Darcy put all her effort into throwing her weight forward. She stumbled into the wall instead of over the edge, clutching at the surface in sweet relief.

She laughed and let out a cry of success before kneeling to kiss the most beautiful letter in the world.

* * *

The call with Darcy had barely ended before Tony relinquished flight control over to Wilson and Barton. He moved quickly to a set of panels on the wall to try and recover Jarvis.

Rogers, Romanov and Barnes hashed out infiltration and recovery strategies as they entered Pennsylvania air space.

As he worked, Tony tried and failed not to imagine Darcy dangling helplessly from the side of the tower. Wondered how she had even ended up there to begin with. Whether she had fallen or been thrown. Surely, she wouldn't have jumped as a means of escape. He shook the thought roughly out of his head. He clenched his eyes shut and focused instead on finding Jarvis, berating himself whenever his mind slipped to the safety nets he had installed at different levels of the tower. He'd constructed them in case he or one of the others ended up airborne during a fight and were unable to fly.

In creating it though, he had never actively imagined someone other than an Avenger ever using it. Never thought there would be a scenario where someone like Darcy or Jane, Happy or Pepper would end up falling defenseless to their death.

And for someone who prided himself on thinking of every possible scenario, this was an unforgivable oversight to Tony Stark.

* * *

Darcy grinned widely to herself as she clambered through the now open hatch that led her into the belly of the beast. She ran her fingers over the guard rail, relieved it bordered the grated walkway that cut across the Iron Legion's chamber.

Turning once to make sure the hatch had indeed closed behind her, Darcy took off at a run toward the wall vent that sat next to the security door. She was too nervous that there would be someone waiting on the other side,. The lock pick Natasha had given her made quick work of the vent cover. She pocketed it and climbed in. She kicked her shoes and socks off behind her, not trusting herself to move quietly with them on.

She tried to recall the few things Clint had told her about the vent network even though she knew it was only a fraction of the information he had. She paused at another grate to try get her bearings, see if she could find Bruce or any of their attackers.

The communal living area was empty save for a boot laying ownerless by the coffee table. She bit her lip, debating on how reckless she should be.

Cap was already going to lay into her for not staying put and disobeying his orders, and part of her did want to stay safe and hidden in the vents until help arrived. The larger part of her; however, wanted – needed – to find Bruce. Despite his past assurances that he was damn near invincible, she couldn't help but imagine him lying helpless somewhere in aftermath of chaos. There had just been so many of them. Even the Hulk had to have been a little overwhelmed by it all. Right?

Setting her chin, Darcy undid the screws in the cover and shoved it out of the way, letting it thud softly on the carpet below before clambering out.

Now that she was standing, Darcy realized the full extent of what had happened here. It was more than just a boot abandoned by the coffee table, behind the couch was a man's body. It looked off to her somehow and it took her a minute to realize it was because his chest was completely caved inward. Severe blunt force trauma, the voice in her head commented with an air of detachment. Looking between the boot and his body, she imagined the boot must have been knocked off his foot by the force of the blow.

Darcy didn't relish the thought that her enemy was dead. Swallowing a surge of vomit back down, she picked her way through the room. Widow bites charged on each wrist, she ducked next to the dead man and brushed his eyelids closed before grabbing the metal baton attached to his tactical belt.

She swung it a few times to get a better feel for it before moving past the kitchen toward the stairwell. Pushing the door open slowly, she peeked around each corner to find it empty. Darcy worked her way upward. Sweat ran from her forehead and stung her eyes. Her body buzzed, overdosed on the events of the night.

She bounded toward the penthouse, only stopping once when she saw the body of a man folded over the railing next to Bruce's floor. He had either fallen or been thrown. She scooted carefully around him, tried to ignore him in her periphery as she peaked over the railing.

This section of stairs only encompassed the top thirteen stories of the tower, if it had been 90 stories, she wouldn't have been able to look. But still, the eleven-floor drop from where she stood was a nauseating sight, especially when she registered the collection of injured and dead men down at the bottom.

Swallowing another wave of bile, Darcy turned and made the rest of the trek up to the Tony's floor – the door to which was missing entirely.

The place was the physical embodiment of savagery. There were several deep gashes in the walls and floor where the Hulk must have collided with them. Darcy couldn't bring herself to count the bodies that littered the hallway toward Pepper's office. Instead, Darcy counted her own breath. She willfully ignored the glassy staring eyes of her former assailants. All but pretended that the ground didn't exist. Held her breath when the unidentifiable smells the bodies emitted became too much to handle. Darcy rubbed her hands nervously on her jeans at the sight of all the blood.

Darcy had seen death before. Seen people accidentally crushed by buildings, seen others burned in the Destroyer's attack on Puente Antiguo. Darcy had run past alien corpses – had a hand in killing a few as well if she was honest with herself. But she'd never seen such a brutal and mass killing of human beings. Not up close and personal. Not like this. They never had a fighting chance.

Part of her, the raging part of her, felt a sick sense of satisfaction at that. They were bad men, these people who had come to do unspeakable things to whoever they intended to get their hands on. They would have killed Darcy and Bruce without a second thought, even if they weren't the intended target.

But the other part of her, the part of her that was so tired of all the violence and destruction that seemed to follow her everywhere she went…that part of Darcy grieved for them. Simply because they were gone. And she grieved for herself because no one should ever have to see what she had seen tonight. No one.

She picked her way through the bodies, fighting vomit and tears and the burning anger inside of her that made her want to lash out with her stolen baton and beat each and every corpse that laid unblinking in her path. Wanted to bloody them up for the role they played in it all. Stopped herself only because she had played a role too.

When she came to the charred entry way to Pepper's office, Darcy was met with a sight she never in a million years thought she would see.

The room was empty of bodies, which seemed impossible in Darcy's mind as she recalled that the majority of the fight had occurred there. He must have moved them, she thought to herself – wondering if those were the bodies that had been dumped in the stairwell like it was a garbage chute.

But what really struck her was that she had never seen the Hulk sit so still. So quiet. He was on his knees, head bowed, with his back to her. Facing the wall he had torn open with his fists. Air whipped fiercely into the room from the place where she fell.

She stepped forward softly, reached out a hand toward him before retracting it hesitantly.

He didn't know she was there.

"Hulk…" Darcy's voice cracked. "Buddy?"

The roar he emitted knocked her off her feet as he stood to his full height and turned to meet her. His face was twisted, enraged, spit flew out of his mouth as he turned to take his anger out on whoever was left.

Hulk stopped short at the sight of her. Rage gave way to shock which then gave way to tears. Giant, hurricane teardrops poured as he shrunk away from her. The Hulk held his hands out in front of him in guilt, as if to remedy the mistake he'd made. He hunched and backed away as though to make himself smaller, to give her more room.

His body was lined in grief.

Darcy picked herself up again, as she had done so many times that night. Dusted off her pants like she was brushing off her nerves and faced the cowering Hulk once more.

"Hey Bud," She smiled tiredly as she moved slowly toward him. Hands outstretched in a gesture of peace.

"NO!" Hulk cried out, backing himself against the wall. Darcy nervously eyed the space she fell out of until she was content that he wouldn't do the same.

"Hulk—"

"GO!" He roared at her.

"Nope. I won't go." She said with a shrug.

"Hulk monster!" He groaned out, eyes grave as he pressed himself further into the wall. There was nowhere else for him to go; he was cornered.

"You're not a monster," her nose burned with the urge to cry as she stopped in front of him. Still giving him some space so he could sort out his head without feeling crowded.

"Hulk monster! Hulk kill little girl!" Hurricane drops rolled down his cheeks.

"Stop it," She snapped tiredly. "You're not a monster. You didn't kill me. I am right here." Each word she enunciated sharply to make her point.

"Little girl fall!"

"Yep. I fell. And landed on some crazy ass invisible net – and it was fucking scary, dude. But I'm here now. Alive. And so are you. Please don't run from me, buddy."

Her lip quivered as the events of the night caught up with her, any adrenaline she'd been running on before left her system once she'd found him. Content that he was safe, and she was safe with him, Darcy began to cry. Like a stupid baby. And she hated herself for it. But fuck it if she could stop.

Her vision blurred and her snot ran, and Darcy couldn't see the Hulk anymore really. He was more a giant green wall of blurriness at that point. She didn't protest when he reached out and pulled her into his embrace. Hugged him around the neck like a child while she cried, completely oblivious to his own tear drops as they rolled down his face and into her hair.

* * *

The assembled team of Avengers worked quickly and cohesively to clear each residential floor of the tower. Allowing the SHIELD teams to work their way through the lower floors. They barely blinked at the destruction and the pilings of bodies. Didn't gag at the sight of blood or severed limbs, didn't stop to stare at concaved chests or heads.

This was nothing new to them. In the past, some had committed similar acts in the name of survival, under orders and of their own volition. It was brutal, but it was effective. No one could rage quite like the strongest Avenger.

Darcy hadn't been where they'd told her to stay. And more than one of them had to battle down intense waves of panic at her absence from the netting above the Avenger's emblem. It was only Stark's report of three heat signatures in the penthouse – one of which was abnormally large and another which was the size of a small animal – that settled their stomachs and minds enough to do their jobs correctly.

When Steve and Tony made it to the doorway of Pepper's office their shoulder's sagged in relief and bemusement.

Before them, Bruce was curled up tight in a thick afghan that Darcy snagged from Tony's bedroom. His eyes were hooded as he held tightly to a tiny, traumatized orange tabby cat that fluctuated between needing its paws in the blanket and scratching the ever-loving fuck out of his shoulder. It had marked him up pretty badly, but he wasn't fazed.

Darcy was leaning heavily on his other shoulder, chattering at him and swinging a baton around the space in front of her.

Steve shifted conspicuously in the doorway to get their attention without startling them and was met with two sets of battle-weary eyes. Their shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of their friends.

Steve pressed his comm.

"I've got eyes on Banner and Darcy."

There was a chorus of responses in his ear. With a sigh, he decided he didn't give a damn about protocol, dropped his shield where he stood and made his way over to the pair. Silently he slid down the wall next to Darcy and took her hand in his own. In the doorway, the Iron Man suit whirred before opening up. Tony stepped out of his armor, walked over to a cabinet that was surprisingly untouched and pulled out a bottle of gin, grimacing.

"I hate this shit," he said before sitting down on the wall next to Bruce, nudging Darcy's foot with his own. "S'why Pepper bought it. Doesn't want me to touch her stuff."

Darcy huffed out a laugh before reaching her hand out toward the bottle. He tugged off the lid and passed it over to the girl, letting his head thud noisily against the wall.

Darcy swigged it and coughed.

"God damn, Pepper, that's nasty."

Tony laughed and watched as Steve took the bottle curiously and sipped, hissing as he swallowed. He snorted and raised his eyebrow at Stark.

"She must've been really pissed when she bought this. What did you do?"

Tony shrugged.

"Can't remember what caused that one. She sold all my good bottles, pocketed the profit, and replaced everything with the worst bottles of booze she could find."

Bruce huffed out a laugh but remained quiet and drained.

As time wore on, they began to hear signs of activity as various people made their way to the penthouse. In sets of two, the other Avenger's wandered into the room. They perched themselves on the floor around the already gathered group. Natasha and Bucky produced a bottle of vodka – not one of Pepper's revenge bottles – and a flask of Thor's Asgardian mead. Natasha passed the vodka around to the collected humans, Steve and Bucky shared the flask between themselves. Clint and Sam had raided the kitchen before heading up, carrying with them tubs of ice cream, bags of chips and a thermos of herbal tea for Bruce.

SHIELD moved through the penthouse, cleaning up the mess and collecting evidence. They arrested the living, collected the dead. A few reticent agents moved into the room of Avengers and tried as inconspicuously as possible to board up the hole in the wall until Stark could have it repaired.

The team stayed there drinking and eating – sometimes quietly, other times all talking at once – letting the hours pass together as the adrenaline of the night faded away.

Natasha cut Darcy off when she began to ramble to Tony about ceramics and signing his son up for art classes. The older woman pumped her full of water and had Clint carry her down to Darcy's floor while Natasha corralled the cat.

Natasha helped Darcy change. Removed her widow's bites, and wiped her face gently with a cool cloth. Tucked her in and laid down next to her. Fury hopped up onto the bed and curled himself tightly between their bodies, purring loudly with his eyes closed.

Darcy started suddenly, sat up and brushed off Natasha's concerned hand.

"Relax, Milaya. You're safe."

"Jarvis." Darcy said to her, looking frantically around the room. "Jarvis was—"

"I am here, Miss Lewis." Jarvis interjected softly then.

"Oh."

"Your body requires sleep now, Miss Lewis." He advised her.

"Did they hurt you, J?"

"No, I am unharmed."

"Good. That's good."

"It is indeed, Miss Lewis. Go to sleep. I will be here in the morning."

Darcy nodded before resting back on her pillow. She squeezed Natasha's hand in silent thanks before drifting off into a deep, liquor induced slumber.


	9. It's the Great Pumpkin, Darcy Lewis!

**So wow...it's been almost a month. Crazy how quickly it can go by. Not really sure what the heck this chapter is, but I do know it is the product of like 50% difficult concept, 40% creativity, and like 10% laziness. The laziness percentage should probably be higher but I didn't want to think of new numbers so there you go...**

**In case you're unfamiliar with the reference, this story is a bit of a parody of the Peanuts Comics...more specifically "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Check it out if you haven't read/watched it and let me know how my version stacked up :) If you want...no pressure.**

**If anyone has ideas for prompts down the road, I would be happy to consider them. And I will try to update a little more regularly again.**

* * *

It's the Great Pumpkin, Darcy Lewis!

29 October 1998

_Dear Great Pumpkin,_

_I can't wait for your visit this Halloween night. Linus said on the television that you always bring lots of presents. I hope, now that I am old enough, you will bring some for me too. I will wait for you at the pumpkin patch._

_Travel safe,_

_Darcy Lewis_

The six-year old put down her colored pencil, carefully folded the letter and put it in the envelope she'd taken out of her daddy's desk. On the front of the envelope in big lettering she wrote GREAT PUMPKIN before adding it to her parent's pile of outgoing mail. Darcy slid from the kitchen chair, picked up her stuffed kitty and sat in front of the television to watch her morning cartoons before her someone came downstairs to help her get dressed for school.

* * *

30 October 2011

Jane gagged as the thick smell of paint wafted in through the trailer windows. She stood from the fold out table where she'd being sipping her morning coffee before shoving the glass panel further open and popping her head out to look down at Darcy.

"Whatever you're up to, can you take it down wind?"

Darcy grinned up at her boss and dropped her can of spray paint before holding up her masterpiece – a black t-shirt with an orange jack-o-lantern face.

"How does he look?" She asked Jane.

"Creepy."

Darcy gasped and flipped it around to face her. She frowned.

"How can you call that face creepy? That's his happy face!"

Jane held up her hands and conceded Darcy's point with a disbelieving shake of the head before ducking back into the trailer.

Darcy huffed before allowing herself a wide toothy grin.

"Don't worry! I'm making one for you too!"

The other girl didn't respond.

* * *

31 October 2014

"Ian!" Darcy called back to her boyfriend who was struggling to keep up with her under the weight of everything she'd shoved into his arms. "Hurry up! I want to get there before the sun sets too low. We have to find a good spot."

"Oh, come on Darcy," he groaned trying to catch his breath. "This is ridiculous. I've got work tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes and kept walking.

"How are you just gonna let Halloween pass you by like that?"

"Because," he sputtered. "Halloween is not a thing we do here, Darce."

She tisked and shot him a look.

"There were people dressed up in the streets dude. They were celebrating."

"Halloween is an American holiday," He said, indignant, before looking dejectedly up at the darkening sky. "Not an English one."

He hitched the picknick basket further up his arm and rolled his shoulder where another bag strap was hanging haphazardly.

"If we were in America, fine. Sure." He muttered to himself as he trailed behind his oblivious girlfriend. "I'd be all for it. But we aren't in America."

Then to her he yelled.

"This is England Darcy! We do this in November!"

"Oh, don't be a Scrooge!" She waved her hand flippantly in his direction. Too pumped up on candy and anticipation to be bothered by his complaints. "Now hustle up, chicken butt! We have to find the perfect spot, so we have a solid view when he gets here!"

* * *

1 November 2014 (the next morning)

Any minute now the sun would begin its ascent over the horizon. The sky, already a warm purple hue.

Darcy, wrapped in a giant quilt, sat in her camping chair wide awake. Her eyes flitted around her excitedly as she waited still for the Great Pumpkin to arrive.

Ian fumed in the chair next to her. His hair stuck up every which way and a light shadow haunting his jawline.

"Darcy, love." He croaked. "We've been out here all night. No stupid giant pumpkin. Can we go home now? It's not even Halloween anymore."

"Few more minutes," she muttered softly.

"If anyone had told me I'd spend a whole night sitting in a pumpkin patch with my girlfriend while she waited for the arrival of a giant magical pumpkin, I'd have told them they were mad."

Darcy smiled and told him the time spent had been worth it.

Gritting his teeth, he hastily packed up their supplies, and tried not to snap at her when she got up to help but moved too slowly.

Robbed. He felt robbed of a perfectly relaxing night at home. He could've been at the pub last night, had a couple pints among friends. But no. No, he had to have a girlfriend that went on fool's errands in the middle of the night.

"Don't worry, babe," Darcy came to walk beside him with a tired but contented smile. "We'll see him next year for sure."

By that time next year, Ian was a sore topic of conversation. Darcy and Jane spent their time in Norway. The SHIELD security detail that had been assigned to them, refused to let Darcy leave in the middle of the night to look for a pumpkin patch.

* * *

29 October – present

Tony paused midsentence, eyes dropping to Darcy where she sat writing intently at her desk. He looked mildly horrified as his eyes shot back and forth between her and her paper. She chewed on her pencil while she worked, oblivious to the man in front of her.

"That better not be—"

"It is," Jane sidled up next to him. "It's a long one this time."

"Longer than last year?" He said appalled, looking at his fellow scientist.

She nodded, affectionate and exasperated as she watched her best friend.

"No," Tony shook his head. "Absolutely not."

He walked over to Darcy and snapped his fingers to get her attention. Tony made to snatch the letter off her desk, but she slid it out of reach and kept writing.

"Okay, Lewis. What's your price?" His voice was desperate and if he was whining, he'd never admit it. "What'll make you forget this whole thing?"

He still hadn't gotten over last year when she bailed on his Halloween Extravaganza to go jaunt around a sketchy old pumpkin patch alone.

"This year is the year, Stark. I'm sure of it. This year I'm finally gonna catch a glimpse of the Great Pumpkin."

"Good grief, kid." He shook his head and turned back to Jane, tabling the topic for later.

29 October (afternoon)

"Come on, Rogers," Natasha purred through the comm in his ear. "Trust me."

Steve grunted as he ducked out of the way of Bucky's fist, coming up behind him and giving a swift kick to his back, sending the other man off balance.

"I've heard that before Romanov." His voice was dry as he lazily brought up his shield to block Thor's half-hearted blow.

"Yeah," she called back, her voice getting louder as she ran. "But we're on the same team now!"

In his peripheral vision he caught sight of her, holding onto Clint's bow as she forced the archer to roll out of her grasp and give up his weapon. He huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Since when has that ever stopped you," he grumbled.

"Should I be offended?" She asked without a tinge of hurt coloring her tone.

"I mean, I know _I_ would be," Sam cut in good naturedly as he dodged Vision in the air. "You're on the same team, Cap. Trust the lady."

"I think I'm good." He said, ducking into one of the hallways trying to get out of Bucky's line of sight before considering his shield thoughtfully.

He shook his head before jumping out of the way of the vibranium fist that appeared out of nowhere. Looking into the smug eyes of his best friend, Steve caught the other fist in his own before forcing Bucky backward out of his space. Barnes countered and Steve hit the ground with a thunderous sound. Thor's laughter sounded in the background as he took on the Vision with no small amount of jubilation.

"Whatever your considerin, punk, don't do it." Bucky's tone was dry, but his face was knowing as he studied the blonde.

They were evenly matched, neither of them tiring, both would inevitably call it a draw long before either came close to winning.

Steve's thoughts wandered back to the shield on his arm as the two of them went blow for blow. Thought back to Natasha's idea and all the ways it could go monumentally wrong.

"Now's your chance, Rogers," Natasha said to him seriously now. "We all know you and Bucky are gonna be stuck like that 'til we call an end to this. Only Thor would tip those scales and he won't because there's no point to it."

"Yeah man, what's the point of these things if we're not gonna push ourselves a bit," Sam said as he engaged Clint to free up Natasha. "Don't want things to get stale out here, Cap. Throw 'em for a loop."

Jarvis cut in then to remind the Captain that Agent Romanov had, in fact, signed a document attesting to the terms of their interactions during sparring sessions after the last time…

A chorus of affirmations followed the A.I.'s commentary and Steve pressed his lips together into a thin line.

Bucky got a jab in to his ribs that sent him cussing and stumbling back.

"Fine." Steve spit out. Bucky paused in confusion at the other man, eyes widening when Steve wound up and sent his shield flying like a frisbee past him. The Soldier reached out to grab the weapon but was forced to the ground by a scrappiness he hadn't seen since the forties. Steve barreled passed him then.

Bucky watched as Natasha dropped from the ledge where she was perched and landed on top of the shield, forcing the disc down with the weight of her body. She held it up so the back was facing a sprinting Captain America and the front was aimed directly for Thor as the god fought the Vision.

He held his breath in anticipation, waiting for Steve to kick the shield and send it flying into an unsuspecting Thor. Held his breath as Steve jumped with both feet out in front of him to kick the shield balanced in the Black Widow's capable hands. And then, he released the breath in one long wheezing laugh as the Widow nimbly ripped the shield out of the way before the Captain could kick it. The room echoed with the thud and the groan that escaped him as his body made impact with the concrete flooring and slid. Natasha carefully skittered away.

"Peculiar thing about that document…" Natasha purred as she laid the shield down next to him and sauntered out of the room. "It was never notarized."

Bucky shook his head and made his way over to Steve where the other man lay.

Clint and Sam were chuckling as they gathered up their discarded equipment. Thor and Vision moved amicably toward the door Natasha had disappeared through.

He held out his hand for his friend with a wry smile.

"Should've seen that one coming, punk."

Steve let out a small breath of laughter and accepted his help up out of the indent his body had made in the ground.

"Yeah," He rubbed at a sore spot on his head. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

30 October - present

"Whatcha doin, doll?"

Darcy looked up at Bucky from where she had ducked into the pantry.

"I'd rather not say." She said suspiciously. "You're gonna laugh."

If he wasn't curious before, he was now. Leaning forward with a serious if intrigued look in his eyes Bucky stuck his head in the pantry with hers.

"I'd never laugh at you. You're my best girl."

She hmphed and shot him a look. The grin she received in response was wide and tooth-rottingly sweet.

"Getting snacks for the pumpkin patch." She said to him.

"And why would I laugh at that?"

"Because I'm going there to wait for the Great Pumpkin."

"The great what-now?"

"You know…the Great Pumpkin…" She said nonchalantly as she pulled out a bag of chips and a couple cans of soda. "Like Santa Claus…only real and way cooler."

He cocked his head and smiled at her; eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"Umm—"

"Nope," Darcy held up a hand. "If you don't have anything nice to say, James Barnes, then you shouldn't say anything at all."

"I just—" He started and then glared at her when she moved to interrupt him again, she fell silent and dropped her hands into her lap.

"What if I want to see the Great Pumpkin, too?"

She recoiled, eyeing him suspiciously.

"We don't joke about the Great Pumpkin, James Buchanan Barnes."

"Who said anything about joking, dollface?"

"You _don't_ want to go see the Great Pumpkin," she told him with a condescending smile.

"I do." Was his easy reply.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to go see the Great Pumpkin? Why aren't you joking?"

"Why should I be joking?"

"Everyone else does," She said like it was obvious.

"Well, everyone else is stupid," he rolled his eyes before taking the food out of her hands so she could stand up. "You take it seriously?"

"Of course, I do!"

"Well then, if it's serious to you. Then it's serious to me."

He reached into one of the higher cabinets and came out with a bag of candy, holding it up for her to decide.

She looked at him for a minute before dropping her eyes to the bag he held out to her. Smiling awkwardly, she nodded, and he added the candy to their stash for the next day.

30 October (evening)

Steve glared at Natasha and the green tights she held toward him with a smirk.

"No."

"Come on."

"No."

"You have to wear something."

"I'll go in jeans."

"It's a costume party," she pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side as she looked him up and down.

"Stop." He said before turning from the doorway to make his way back to the pile of paperwork on top of his kitchen table.

She followed him in, closing the door quietly behind them and hanging the costume she bought him on the coat rack by the entry.

"I happen to think you'd look dashing," she batted her eyelashes and plopping into the chair next to him.

Silence.

"Alright, fine. No more flirting." She smirked when he glared. "But seriously. You totally have that whole Robin Hood vibe, Rogers. It'd be a good look."

"Natasha—"

"Fine. Fine." She held up her hands. "Something else then…"

* * *

31 October – Present

The event staff bustled about the common area of Avenger's tower with an air of stifled anticipation and carefully maintained professionalism. This was not the first Tony Stark party most of them had worked; never once had the billionaire disappointed and his tips were legendary.

Their work was overseen by Happy Hogan who walked around the common area, high strung with a clip board and an earpiece he probably didn't need.

The overall vibe in the room probably wasn't helped any by the thunder god sipping coffee at the dining table with Captain America, Pepper Potts and the Iron Patriot.

The team of legends sat comfortably in the middle of organized chaos, occasionally sharing looks and casting amused glances over coffee mugs and newspaper pages while newer staff members tried to not get caught staring. They stifled laughter and good-natured scoffs as Happy tried to establish a security perimeter around them, to better protect them from any unforeseen threats the ladle holders and wine pourers could pose.

"Hey you!" Happy called out, pointing at a pair of jean clad legs and converse covered feet moving rapidly through the common room. The person's upper body and face were blocked by a large cardboard sign, held up on an angry looking picket. In giant block lettering it read:

_WELCOME GREAT PUMPKIN!_

The staff froze in horror, trying to figure out who the offender was and what they were supposed to do. The person with the sign; however, continued ignoring the man's call.

"Hey!" Happy stalked over to them. "You with the sign. Let me see a badge. You got a badge?"

Still they ignored him. Those at the table looked on curiously, Pepper stood with a noise of protest to call Happy off.

"Happy relax, it's probably their first day—"

"Hey man, what the fuck? Give that back!" Darcy Lewis's raised voice shocked Happy back a step as he looked between her and the giant sign he'd just ripped out of her hands.

"Miss Lewis—" Happy stuttered caught between a look of indignation and embarrassment.

She pursed lips and crossed her arms as she looked up at him curiously. Pepper appeared, a calming presence by his side.

"I asked you to identify yours—" He started then turned to Pepper. "I asked her to identify herself. She needs to carry her—" He held up his hand exasperatedly and looked back at Darcy. "You need to carry your badge! This incident could have seriously escalated Miss Lewis. Seriously escalated."

He looked between the two women, the younger who was putting her earbuds back into her ears and making grab hands at her poster, and the elder who was trying to decide if she should be glaring or smiling at the head of her security team.

With a sigh and a shake of the head, he handed Darcy back her poster and turned back to Pepper.

"We have rules for a reason. I advised against this, in the beginning. You remember—"

Pepper patted his arm and guided him away from where Darcy had retreated.

"I remember, Happy." She said.

Darcy paused in the doorway, glancing back at the table where the rest of the gathered Avengers sat.

"Let's go, Fury." She called back.

The little orange cat hopped up onto the table with a yowl and a flick of his tail. He stole a piece of lox from Rhodey's bagel and sprinted off toward Darcy.

Mouth open, hand midair, Rhodey released a long breath through his nose and set his violated bagel back on its plate.

"I find the little Fury's outfit to be most intriguing," Thor said thoughtfully.

"Was he wearing a—" Steve started.

"A bowler hat and a set of dog tags?" Natasha asked as she appeared from nowhere and sat next to Pepper.

Steve nodded.

"Yes."

"Why?" Steve asked.

"Because he's a genuine World War Two Howling Commando."

Steve just stared at her.

31 October (Evening)

"Flashlight?"

"Check"

"Snacks?"

"Check"

"Hot cocoa and coffee?"

"Check. Check."

"What about the—" Darcy turned to remind Bucky about the keys to the company vehicle they were borrowing, expecting to see him rifling through their supplies and verifying everything she threw out. Instead he was lounging on her couch with an arm propped behind his head, eyes closed.

She cocked her hip and tilted her head.

"Blankets?" His responding "check" was immediate; he didn't so much as twitch to confirm whether or not he was right. Her nostrils flared.

"Back up batteries?"

"Check."

"Magic wand?"

"Check"

"Condoms?"

He paused then, his foot twitched and his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Before his eyes shot open and he sat up.

"Think I misheard ya, doll…"

His eyes widened then as he took in the bemused look on her face and the foot she tapped critically on the floor.

"This is serious Bucky. I don't want to get there and not have everything we need."

He scratched the back of his neck, looking back at her.

"Darcy, we've run through this list twice now. I have an eidetic memory from the serum and am slightly overqualified for the job…I promise you we aren't forgetting anything."

She studied him for a second, blushed, and then turned back to her list.

"You have a point, I guess. Sorry."

"Don't need to apologize," He said easily. "Don't need to freak out either."

31 October (Night)

The party was in full swing. Tony was only mildly toasted, walking around with a pair of bunny ears on his head. The place was packed and loud and happy. Each of them relished in the lighthearted feeling while it lasted.

Steve wandered away from where Sam and Thor had engaged in war stories with a group of old veterans none of them knew, eyebrows shooting into his hairline when Jane Foster stumbled past him giggling with a knife in her hand. His hands shot out to grab her when she tripped and went careening toward the ground. She snorted but let him right her and jumped up trying in vain to recover the knife he swiped from her hands.

"Captain America, give me my knife," She laughed and jumped again.

He glanced between her and the knife, pretended to consider it before crossing his arms and looking down at her.

"No can do, Dr. Foster."

"Call me Jan, Captain America."

"If your name is Jan, then my name is Stove." He quirked his lips as she looked up at him with glazed eyes.

"Stove…" She said thoughtfully, rolling the name off her drunken tongue. "Stove."

"Jane." Natasha appeared then, holding herself carefully and not meeting his eyes. He would never get tired of seeing Nat pretend she wasn't wasted.

Jane gasped and turned to Natasha.

"Stove took my knife," She said pointing at Steve.

Natasha studied him carefully, held out her hand for the knife which he begrudgingly gave her, and then snatched his wrist in a steel grip. Despite his yelp and protestations, Natasha muttered to herself and turned to drag him behind her. Jane trailed them giddily.

They stopped in the kitchen where Natasha forced him to face the giant pumpkin sitting on the counter.

"Steve Rogers," Her voice was light as she took the knife and ran it down the fabric of his shirt.

"Natasha!" He yelped and turned to look at her with wide eyes. "What the hell—"

"You'll have to model for us," She grinned up at him, yanking the torn fabric down his arms.

"He'll be the perfect model!" Jane clapped her hands together, her voice bright and airy.

Jane eyed him appreciatively as Natasha tossed her a sharpie. He stood bare chested in the kitchen, with a blush on his face that only deepened when Natasha nodded to Jane.

"Show me that design you were thinking of?"

Jane hopped up excitedly and opened the sharpie. He raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes exasperatedly upward as the tiny scientist began to draw her Jack-O-Lantern design on his body. Natasha eyed his abdomen critically before turning back to their pumpkin and carving into it enthusiastically.

By the time the two of them had finished, he'd gained an appreciative audience of female partiers, and suffered a barrage of teasing from Clint and Thor who were cackling in the corner.

After Natasha handed him his torn t-shirt and released him, and Jane had thanked him profusely for being the perfect model, he shook his head with a light chuckle and went to find a shirt. The elevator doors slid closed as he got in, but he could've sworn he caught a glimpse of an orange tail and a bowler hat skulking quietly between the legs of party guests. He wiped a hand over his eyes.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"I thought I saw Darcy's cat in the common area just now…" His finger hovered over the button that would return him to the common area floor. He didn't want the poor guy to be overwhelmed by so many strange people.

"I am afraid I am not at liberty to share details, sir. The young Fury is on a top-secret mission behind enemy lines."

Steve tilted his head and mouthed the words 'top secret mission' back to himself.

* * *

1 November

Bucky watched Darcy's chest rise and fall to the rhythm of her breathing, eyes clutched tight as though to ward off the inevitable morning. She'd fallen asleep hours ago; he hadn't bothered to wake her.

Turning away from the girl in the chair, he leaned back against the tree they were camped under and watched the sky turn purple over the empty pumpkin patch.

She'd made him swear to wake her if she nodded off, swear on his life. He solemnly gave his word knowing that, if she fell asleep, he would break it without an ounce of remorse.

It was in the breaks between conversation that he learned more about the great pumpkin than she could ever tell him in words. She had talked passionately about the condescending comments of non-believers, about Tony's bribery to get her to give up her faith in the great pumpkin and Ian's less than enthusiastic reaction to being involved in the childish endeavor.

In the silence he saw the bruise-like patches under her eyes, the pallor of her skin, and the slump of her shoulders.

"_Have you talked to anyone about the last few months?" He inquired softly – facing forward but watching her in the corner of his eye._

_Startled, her eyes were drawn from her thousand-yard stare to the man next to her. _

"_Hmm?"_

"_Have you talked to anyone about what's been going on recently?"_

_Her eyes widened then._

"_No," She said. "Of course not. I wouldn't do that."_

_He blew air out of his nose in a quiet exhale. _

"_You should."_

"_What?"_

"_You should talk to someone."_

"_I can handle it, Bucky," She said tersely. He looked directly at her then. She dropped her gaze to the frayed edge of her blanket. They fell back into silence. _

As the long night ended, Bucky observed the world come alive once more. It had been so long since he'd sat still, safe in the open with a pretty girl by his side and a moment to think about something other than the blood on his hands or global catastrophe.

A bird flitted around in the tree branches over his head, waking up early to search for worms in the damp earth. The sky was lighter now, but still no sun.

"_I used to come out here with my cousins," Darcy told him. She smiled half a smile and held out the bag of candy for him to take one. _

_Once he popped a rolo in his mouth she continued. _

"_My aunt hated it, but she always had a stick up her ass," She shrugged. "They outgrew it and maybe I should have too, but then Charlie was old enough and I didn't want him to feel left out. And then I realized how much I loved reliving it through him. The anticipation, the candy, staying up all night and having this _thing_ – this thing that no one else in the world had." _

"_So…you don't actually believe the Great Pumpkin is real?"_

_She looked at him and tilted her head, eyes warm._

"_I don't think it's that simple Bucky."_

_He waited for her to continue._

"_Before I started waiting for the Great Pumpkin, I was afraid of Halloween," she said. "I didn't like that people didn't look how they were, that they could hide behind masks and makeup and costumes. You couldn't read them the same way. I wanted to see people as they were."_

_She laughed and popped a tootsie pop in her mouth, giving it a few licks before biting the hard candy shell._

"_I don't think I thought about it in that way when I was six but now that I'm older I'm pretty sure that's what it was."_

"_That makes sense, I guess," he told her._

"_Anyway, once I had the Great Pumpkin there was suddenly this big, happy thing to look forward to on Halloween night. Don't get me wrong, the candy was a HUGE plus. Loved that part. But in some ways, I guess the Great Pumpkin chased away the uncertainty I used to have this time of year."_

_He nodded at her, held out a water bottle that she drank from greedily._

When the sun peeked over the horizon, Bucky stood and began to gather their supplies. He folded his own chair and picked up their trash before making a quick trek to their car.

She hadn't moved a muscle by the time he got back so he squatted down and gently squeezed her knee.

"Time to wake up, doll."

She twitched and scrunched her face up before curling back into the chair and returning to sleep.

He shook her knee gently this time.

"Darcy, doll, it's time to get up. Gotta head home."

She groaned and squinted at him.

"Hmmm?"

"Time to go," He repeated and sat back on his heels as her eyes widened and she sat up.

"Did I pass out? Did I miss it?" She swept her eyes frantically over the morning landscape of the pumpkin patch before resting them back on him.

Bucky looked at her seriously.

"No doll, we saw the Great Pumpkin. Don't you remember?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"Don't mess with my head, Bucky."

"Not messing with anything," He told her seriously before standing and offering his hand. "We stayed up most of the night, ate candy, and yeah for a bit you fell asleep, but he was here."

"Oh yeah, how do you know?" She griped, taking his hand and hauling herself up out of her chair.

"Well…" He smiled down at her when she picked up her folding chair and held it out of his reach. Bucky slung an arm around her shoulders as they walked to the car. "All the bad things went away last night, didn't they?"

She pursed her lips.

"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard, dude."

His grin was all teeth when he opened the passenger side door for her.

"Is it?"

She just looked back at him, kind of groggy and kind of sad.

"It wasn't the same this year," she told him when he closed the driver's side door and buckled up.

"No?"

She shook her head.

"What changed?" He asked her as they pulled out of the parking lot and made toward the highway.

"Me, I think."


End file.
